Mountains Beyond Mountains
by griZzlyAngel
Summary: When a certain wily wizard interferes with a young woman's plans and somehow convinces her and Bilbo Baggins to accompany thirteen dwarves on a grand adventure, she finds that running away is far easier than going back home again... Bilbo/OC
1. Prologue

Author's Note: Hello, everyone! So, this is my first 'Hobbit' fiction. I honestly do not have a lot to say at the moment about it besides the fact that it may not be the greatest creation on this site. However, after much searching through the section I've come to the sad conclusion that there are few Bilbo love stories or Bilbo-centric fics for that matter (unless you count Thilbo, Bagginshield, or whatever you may call it, which I have no desire to read, sorry. ). As such, I've taken the liberty to make my very own. Can't say it will be good or anything, but I figured I'd take a shot at it. Well, here we go...

Disclaimer: I don't own The Hobbit or anything related. That is the property of Tolkien. And the movie to Peter Jackson, I suppose? Whatever, you get the idea.

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Prologue

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Night had come to fall over the world, igniting a thunderous chorus of animalistic noises throughout the dense forest of Tod. Everything was natural about the scene except for a pair of light footsteps bearing down on the rotten foilage covering the ground. They belonged to a young human woman, who was carefully treading an ancient path through the wood. Quick was her pace, for no forest was truly safe after dark. From all around her there came odd sounds of varying nocturnal beasts: owls, wolves, and other more dangerous creatures. There was no chance of her camping in this place, no matter how weary she may have been.

When the trees began to make space between one another her spirits lifted somewhat. The end of the forest had come and beyond was safe country or so she was told. After a time the trees ceased their spread, leaving a clear view for the female traveler. She was at the edge of a shallow overhang that overlooked a vast stretch of land below known as the Shire. The woman walked to the cliff edge and breathed in deeply as she removed her hood. So this was it. Halfing country. A place seldom visited by humankind. The "little folk", or so men named the hobbits, were shy of the "big folk" as they liked to call men. At least that is what she recalled from old stories by her father, a masterful storyteller. This thought made the woman frown and for the first time since her departure from her homestead, she felt troubled. What if she had come all this way for nothing? She couldn't turn back now though...

"Quite a lovely view, hmm? Though, it is much more so during the daylight, if I do say so myself." came a soft rasp of a voice to break her train of thought.

The woman whipped around in fright, frantically patting her hands along her left hip where an old sword hung. There stood a tall figure in the shadows of the trees, just out of sight.

"Wh-who are you?" she called out to the hidden person with authority although the waver in her tone gave her fear away.

A low rumble of a chuckle, or so it sounded, issued from the shadows then.

"You have no need for _that... _Not just yet, anyway."

The young woman's eyes flitted to the sword in her hands then back at the stranger in the dark.

"Show yourself!" she blurted out, the fear taking a hold on her.

As if on cue, what few stray clouds that covered the waning moon that night suddenly drew apart and a beam of silver light shot down upon the clearing on the cliff. The figure moved forward gradually until it stood fully in the moonlight, revealing its' identity. The girl gasped and lowered her sword to her side a slight. Before her was an elderly gentleman garbed in worn grey robes and a lengthy blue scarf that wrapped twice about his neck. He had a grand beard that reached to his belly, a long nose and eyebrows so bushy that they protruded beyond the wide rim of his pointed hat. He carried with him a large wooden staff, which he now used as support to lean on. The old man looked so familiar to the woman, but for the life of her, she could not pin a name to his being.

"Does my appearance bring no relief?" said he.

The young woman, with sword still in hand, shrugged, shifting her weight from foot to foot uneasily.

"I vaguely remember a man like yourself, though I cannot think of his name."

The mysterious old man nodded. "Perhaps if you knew I was Gandalf you would not be so precarious, now would you?"

Gandalf? She strained to fish the name from her memory. Gandalf? Gandalf...

The woman's eyes grew with recognition and the sword in her right hand clanged to the grassy ground as she ran towards him like a child would to their grandfather.

"Gandalf! Oh, Gandalf! Is it truly you?" she cried with joy.

The grey wizard embraced the young woman, laughing heartily at her youthful vigor.

"Well, as far as I know. Unless you have encountered more Gandalfs besides me."

"No!" the woman stepped back to look at him better. "There is only one Gandalf I ever knew and he is _you."_

For a moment the two studied themselves in the light of the moon, recalling times before where they had seen a great deal of each other. It had been such years since the last time the young woman had spoken to the wizard and she had come to think he had spent his last days in Middle Earth. Here he was, though, the same as ever.

"Oh, Gandalf, I've missed you!" she said in genuine earnest, going to hug him for the second time.

"As I have you, Dear Fandria."

The young woman, or Fandria, released her hold and grinned excitedly up at the wizard.

"Where have you been, Gandalf?"

Gandalf sighed and bobbed his head from side to side as he tried to come up with a decent answer.

"Oh, well, around everywhere to be perfectly honest, child."

"What are you doing here?"

"I should like to ask the same of you, Miss Narand." he said gruffly, giving an even nod at her, which caused the tip of his hat to flop forward.

The woman's bright eyes and jubliant demeanor instantly darkened and she crossed her arms over her chest in defiance.

"My business is my own." she stated.

"As is mine." Gandalf returned promptly.

Fandria shook her head at him in disbelief.

"You were always so secretive..." she grumbled, turning away from the wizard.

"For reasons."

Gandalf watched the girl trudge back to her original spot to fetch the fallen sword from the ground, all the while his scheming mind worked. A sudden twinkle appeared in his blue eyes and his mouth quivered as he held back a smile.

"Though I do not know your purpose here, I would say that if you are wanting a place to sleep this is not the most suitable spot."

Fandria snorted, straightening from her bent position to reclaim her weapon from the ground, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"Indeed."

"If I were you, I would seek refuge." he carried on, making his way over to the girl.

"Oh, yes?" she feigned innocence to the suggestion, sheathing the sword.

"There are many a warm hole further on down the road. I am sure that you could find a trusting hobbit to spare a room for the night."

At this, Fandria's head popped up.

"Pardon me, Gandalf, but I don't think that is the most clever idea you've given. I know nothing of halflings and they certainly know nothing of me!"

Gandalf raised one of his furry eyebrows at her and made a noise between a snort and a gasp.

"Then why here? Why the Shire? Did you not expect to meet halflings in their homeland?" he exclaimed, spreading out his arms in exaggeration.

"Again, my business." Fandria reminded him snappishly.

"Your business or not, I would advise you to find something other than damp grass as a bed, Fandria Narand." Gandalf said in all seriousness.

He placed one hand on his hip, while gripping his staff with the other, staring down at the young woman. Fandria gave him a hard look back, but she couldn't keep it for long under his stare. That stare. The stoney, all-knowing stare. The Gandalf stare. It always triumphed in the end. She growled with frustration, shaking her head at the ground.

"Look, Gandalf, I do not know this country-" she began to say when he cut across her.

"Yes, but _I _do. If you wish, I could refer you to some of the more... erm, well, some of the more bolder sorts of hobbits."

Fandria tilted her head. "_Bolder?"_

Gandalf nodded and smiled widely this time, his eyes twinkling like distant stars.

"Mmm-hmm, I will start with one particular hobbit I know quite well. From what I remember, he used to be quite the adventurous lad and I expect he will not have changed much at all..."

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Author's Note: Uh, yeah... Well, I don't know what else to say other than 'yeah'. If there is any names, creatures, places, people, legends or things that you do not recognize in this story, they are most likely my personal creation, like Fandria. I like adding to lore if I can and I hope it doesn't offend any of you hardcore Tolkien fans. I'm a HUGE fan too, so just remember that. Also, if I ever get anything confused or wrong, please forgive me. I haven't waded in this fandom for a number of years and have some catching up to do. To make sure I stay on track with Middle Earth knowledge I've started reading 'The Hobbit' over again and watching the trilogy excessively. Okay, um, yeah, that's all I have to say. Reviews are always nice to have! *wink, wink*


	2. The Evening Preceding a Good Morning

Disclaimer: I don't own The Hobbit. I'm just a big fan. Please, don't kill me.

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The Evening Preceding a Good Morning

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"Ahh"

Bilbo Baggins sighed contentedly with a stomach full of salted pork and mashed potatoes as he seated himself in his favorite armchair, a book in one hand and his trusty pipe in the other. Nearby a freshly started fire crackled in the large stone fireplace, giving off a soft, warm glow to the cozy parlour room. As the orange flames danced, shadows mimicked the moves, jumping about behind various objects that filled the space. The scene was perfect in every way. After a long day this is what Bilbo looked forward to more than anything else (except a good supper perhaps.). The comfortable hobbit crossed one leg atop the other whilst fighting to light his sleek pipe, his brown eyes focused on the end of it. Finally it came to life. With a long, slow inhale on it, Bilbo closed his eyes. It felt so good and he did not want the peaceful moment to end. Filling his lungs to the max with the smokey air, the hobbit came to exhale through his nose. He opened his eyes and blinked slowly, watching the shadows made by the fire pounce around him.

"Well now," he said aloud some moments later. "I think I shall at last finish you."

He stuck his pipe in the side of his mouth and puffed thoughtlessly as he flipped through his book to the marked page. When he'd got to it he settled further in his squashy chair and delve right into the story involving a lost city and a reluctant hero. His lips moved subconsciously with the text he read, his brow growing into a knot of concentration. Along with gardening and cooking, reading was certainly one of Bilbo's passions. Ever since he was just a wee hobbit tyke. Books provided a way of travelling outside of the Shire without actually doing so, which to most hobbits with a pinch of curious nature were grateful towards. Mr. Baggins was one of those hobbits, though every once in a while that Took blood in him would become a bit too riled for his liking and he would have to shut the book before it got to him. He was a respectable hobbit after all. It wouldn't do to go scampering away in the woods like that silly child he once had been. That was so long ago that he sometimes was not so sure it _had _been him.

The quiet of his tidy hole was broken at that particular moment by a resounding knock, as was Bilbo's vivid imagination. In a puff, the picture of a hideous beast terrorizing innocent villagers vanished from his mind, leaving the hobbit momentarily frozen. A few more knocks at the door, however, sent him to start in his chair, the pipe slipping from his lips to the floor at his feet. Bilbo gasped and shot up out of the comfy armchair, his book flying, to retrieve the still-smoking pipe. He gazed down at the threadbare carpet in a sad way, having spotted the visible mark left by the pipe. Flinching when another louder knock came from the door, the hobbit frowned to himself, putting out the pipe and setting it aside on a tablestand.

"Who could possibly be visiiting at this time?" he wondered.

The thick, leathery soles of his large, furry feet scuffed against the bare floor of the hole as he padded through the multiple halls that made up Bag End, coming to halt in the foyer. The knocking had intensified to impatient bangs by the time his hand was upon the handle of the door.

"Really now! This had better be important for you to make such a racket, I-" but the rest of his words were lost when he had opened the door.

In the front porch there was no hobbit of any sort to be found: only a tallish, slim figure covered in a black hooded cloak so that its' face was kept secret. For half a moment Bilbo considered slamming the door shut on the intruder, his little heart palpitating with fright. That is until the strange visitor lowered its' hood, revealing an even more baffling sight. Bilbo's head jerked back, his chocolate eyes growing huge. A young woman, surely not far past her come-of-age, stared back at him with eyes almost matching his in color. She was obviously human by the looks of it, though she was rather petite in stature-the hobbit's head being level with her chest. Her fine, flaxen hair, reaching beyond her midsection, was tied back by two thin braids, her ears, being a tad bigger than normal, poked out on each side of her head, and upon either lobe dangled delicate silver hoops. Her eyebrows, thick and dark, rose up her forehead when she saw Bilbo, her small, thin-lipped mouth parting ever-so-slightly. She gawked at him down her long, pointy nose, where a parade of freckles marched over from cheek to cheek. Beneath her ebony cloak-which was probably meant for someone of a larger height by the way it puddled at her feet-Bilbo could see a dark dress that seemed to be torn at the bottom to shorten the length. Because of this, the muddy boots she wore were left in plain sight to the hobbit. Bilbo thought that they too looked to be for a greater sized person than she.

All in all she was a wildy unexpected surprise. For good or for bad, the hobbit could not tell as of yet.

A long minute of stunned silence had nestled between them. Had it been under regular circumstances, Bilbo would have given a proper welcome; but, it wasn't and so at long last the girl spoke, her voice throaty and bent with a tinge of an accent that Bilbo could not identify.

"Er, I apologize on bothering you so late, but I have traversed from a far distance and am unspeakably weary. If it would not bring a noble hal-eh, _hobbit _such as yourself trouble to permit me shelter for the night, I would be wholly thankful."

She concluded with an elegant bow that made her locks of gold slip forward and hang about her face. Bilbo, who could not find his wits nor voice still, blinked and then made a noise like a squeak when he realized he was being uncharacteristically rude. The human's head lifted to look at him, a sudden gasp escaping her, which in turn caused the hobbit to gasp. She shot back to her full height, flinging her hair behind her.

"Forgive me! I did not give you my name. I am Fandria Narand."

She was smiling and Bilbo saw a tint of rose color her prominent cheekbones.

The hobbit's mouth opened to say something, then closed, then opened again and then closed again. Fandria's smile slipped downward as she watched the strange little creature who apparently could not communicate well, if not at all. She really knew nothing of halflings.

"Can you not speak? There's no need as long as you can at least understand what I say. How about a head incline for 'yes' to me staying or a shake for 'no' to that." she tried to help or so she assumed.

Bilbo's eyes bulged and his arms stiffened at his sides, giving the girl a most offended look.

"Y-yes, of course I can speak!" he was finally able to stammer out, his voice at a pitch higher than usual.

Fandria Narand bit her lip, her blush from seconds before spreading further over her face. The hobbit noted this and inwardly slapped himself. _'Not the best introduction, Baggins,' _was his thought. _'And, good lord! What happened to your voice?' _

"Ah-_ahem," _he put a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat to set his true tone right down a few octaves. "I am so sorry."

And when the young woman's soft brown eyes bore into him with uncertainty, Bilbo felt a big shame. Shrinking under her nervous stare, he licked his lips and clasped his hands together in front of him.

"I-I, uh, yes, well, I-I-," he caught himself and swallowed, then with a steadier voice began again. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Narand. My name is Bilbo. Bilbo Baggins."

He was happy to see her features lighten up once more, a smile winning a place back on her pale pink lips.

"It is a pleasure to meet you also, Mr. Baggins."

Silence had found them again, however, Bilbo broke it first this time around.

"So you are, uh, wanting a place to sleep? Is that it?" he brought back her original inquiry, looking at her for confirmation.

Fandria nodded. "Yes."

Bilbo would have groaned if he'd been a less courteous hobbit. Of all the hobbits in Hobbiton it was he who she chose to beg from. Could she not have just went straight to the Sackvilles? Oh how amusing that would have been! Of course their dwelling wasn't beginning to be as luxurious as his. It was then the first time Bilbo cursed his father for digging a hole so large. There were two purposes he knew well of for it: to spoil his mother, Belladonna, rotten and to show off.

_Well, it certainly "showed off", _thought Bilbo bitterly.

He looked up at the human female awaiting his answer and wanted more than anything to say 'no' and 'go see the hole next door, thank you!'. Instead his body slouched, head lowered and a defeated sigh could be heard from his lips.

"You are most welcome to stay here for tonight, Miss Narand."

"Oh, thank you! Thank you so much, Mr. Baggins! It is an honor." she said with gratitude, bowing at him once again.

Bilbo's mouth and nose twitched to the left. He really wasn't entirely comfortable with a woman coming into his home, his sanctuary, and practically kissing his feet. Well, perhaps that was going a bit far.

"Um, well, you are very welcome," he scratched the back of his neck, then jumped as his innate politeness rediscovered itself. "Come in, come in! It is such a chill night out there. You could catch a cold! Here, let me take your cloak."

Fandria barely had to duck as she crossed the threshold into his hole. And what a hole it was! It was only a small area she was in, but already she saw that this halfling's hole put her old hut to shame. Unclipping her tarnished broach, the young woman slipped off her old, hand-me-down cloak and handed it to the hobbit, who in turn took it over to a row of hooks on the wall in the foyer and hung it up. He disregarded the belt containing a sheath that held a sword. Yes, completely disregarded it.

"Thick cloak you've got here, hmm." Bilbo said more to himself than to her, brushing some dirt off it when he'd put it on the hook.

Fandria smirked, looking all over for a place to stick her boots. Bilbo, having gone back to shut and lock the door, noticed.

"Need help?"

"Oh," the girl turned in a full circle to find him, smiling sheepishly. "I, uh, I'm not quite sure of where to put my boots."

She stuck out a foot for emphasis, seeing the hobbit's intelligent eyes avert to the appendage.

"Ah, right here should do fine. Thank you." he gestured to a spot near the doorway.

Fandria nodded and walked over to tug off her clod-hoppers. She touched her sheathed sword, then decided to keep that there along with the boots. Once she'd done this, the girl turned to face her tiny host with a half of a smile. Bilbo mirrored her and cleared his throat.

"Erm, so, are you hungry? I know, or rather, have _heard _that great expeditions can boost a man's appetite profoundly."

The young woman's hands went to her stomach and she seemed to think on this question before giving a nod.

"Famished."

"Ah! Well, in that case, let me fix you something," he pivoted and started quickly down the hall, but then stopped and glanced over his shoulder at her. "Please, follow me. I should think that eating at a table is far more appealing than eating at a hobbit's door."

He beckoned to her and Fandria hurried after, taking care not to hit her head on any low-hanging decorations. It didn't take long to get to the dining room, and the girl had only caught fleeting glimpses of other rooms leading off in both directions, which she would have liked to go and explore more of. Being her first time in a hobbit hole, she was bound to be curious.

"Here you are." Bilbo said to her when they had entered.

Fandria watched him shuffle over to the long oak table, that filled most of the room, and pulled out a carved wooden chair. His eyes flickered back and forth from the chair to her, his mouth moving in minute spasms. He coughed and tapped his fingers on the chair's back. The girl, forgetting such mannernisms, gasped as it occurred to her of what he was doing. She swiftly moved forwards and sat herself down on the seat he held out for her.

"Thank you." she mumbled, feeling embarassed at not remembering such commonalities as a man presenting a seat to a woman.

"You are very welcome." came his kind reply.

He walked around in front of her, tightening the tie of his colorful robe, then folded his hands behind him, a faint outline of a smile more apparent on his pleasant face.

"Now, what can I get you? Tea? Biscuits? Some soup perhaps?"

"Whatever you wish. I'm no more inclined to one food or the other when I'm starving."

She laughed after saying this, more boisterously than intended she knew by the wide-eyed look of Bilbo. The embarassment blossomed and the woman chose to study her hands laced together on her lap rather than the hobbit. Bilbo waited to see if she'd say more. She did not.

"Right then," he sniffed, leaning up onto his tip-toes then back to a flat-footed stance. "I will go and make you, er... Whatever."

He turned and dissappeared through another rounded archway into a connecting room where the kitchen and food storage were located. Seconds later there could be heard a clear clatter of various cooking utensils, along with a low-key hum that had to come from Mr. Baggins. Fandria's ears perked at the homely sounds, enjoying them. Raising her line of sight from her lap to the tabletop then to the dining room as a whole, the young woman breathed in and out through her nose. Her eyes closed briefly as she captured a wonderful scent: the scent of a hobbit hole. Gandalf had definitely been right in sending her here. Though she may have not known much about hobbits, she was willing to learn. This hobbit, Mr. Baggins was it? He was quite the intriguing fellow. She wondered if all hobbits were so skittish. Apart from his hair-covered toes and small build, he was not at all what she'd imagined one to look like. He was not a man by any means, but he had somewhat pleasing attributes with his sandy brown curls and elfish ears that jutted out of them. He was amazingly civilized as well, something that most males of her kind were inept of. Fandria smiled to herself when his quiet humming became distinct words of a song. She listened, but could not recall any such melody.

"A hobbit song is what it is." she said to no one.

During Bilbo's absence, which turned out to be a bit longer than expected, Fandria got up and walked around the table all but a dozen times. She'd never been one to sit for more than five minutes, especially in such a chair as was given to her. It was small and she could just fit in it, but the comfort had soon diminished from her backside. Of course she knew it was not the hobbit's fault that she was a big human galoot. He'd been generous enough to allow her inside, let alone serve her dinner at his lovely wooden table. Fandria, having retaken her seat after a short stroll to one end of the dining room where yet another hall branched from, rested her head on her hand and pondered. She supposed she'd leave early tomorrow, maybe even at the break of dawn. She still had a ways to go before reaching the White and Far Downs, and then beyond that, the Grey Havens. And still beyond that...

"Here we are now!"

Fandria sprung up at Bilbo's little voice, toppling her and her chair over backwards noisily. The hobbit, startled by her motion, almost dropped the tray laden with food in his arms.

"Goodness gracious! Are you alright?"

He set the tray on the table and approached the woman to aid her in untangling her body from the chair.

"I'm f-fine. Yes, I'm fine." Fandria, once back on her feet, assured him, bringing her hands to flatten down the wrinkles in her dress.

She was completely positive her face was about as red as a well-ripened tomato.

"What on earth happened?" Bilbo asked.

"You surprised me." the young woman answered flatly, sitting in the chair again.

One of the hobbit's eyebrows cocked upward and Fandria could have sworn she saw a hint of amusement in his big brown orbs. He said nothing except his apology though, and went about the business of presenting the meal to her. He must have taken her word on the proposition of being famished to heart, for the display on the tray was not lacking in the slightest. In the center on a plate sat a glistening hunk of ham, encircled by potatoes, mashed to perfection, some beans and a few diced carrots. Next to the plate was a shallow bowl of yellowish broth and opposite of that was a neat pile of fresh biscuits. At the right corner of the tray was also two cups: one containing water, the other hot tea. Tendrils of steam wafted upward from the scrumptuous image to meet Fandria's nostrils. She took a huge whiff, her eyes rolling back behind her lowered lids without knowing, smiling in spite of herself at the heavenly blend of smells.

"You've outdone yourself for a stranger," she said in quiet awe. "Thank you. If all hobbits are as kind as you are, Mr. Baggins, then I shall be ever certain of defending this land, your Shire."

Fandria could swear his round cheeks flushed, but he'd ducked his head too fast for her to get a good look. He had put his arms at his back once more, chuckling softly at the tiled floor.

"It's, ah, it's the least I can do for a fair young lady," his tone was gentle and low. "And you can call me Bilbo, please. When you say Mr. Baggins I shall always think of my father's grim face."

The young woman grinned at this, capturing his eyes when he'd looked back at her.

"Thank you, _Bilbo_."

Not wasting another second, Fandria turned all her attention onto the heaping dish set before her and dug in. Bilbo, who'd gone and situated himself in a seat on the other side of the table, observed the girl with tentative interest. His brow inched up as he did, his little nose scrunching and ears twisting in her direction. She was practically inhaling the food he'd given her, not even taking a moment to catch her breath. Perhaps she _had _told the truth about starving. If that was so, then the hobbit really did feel sorry for the human. He comtemplated on his uninvited guest then. Just who was she exactly and where did she come from? The matter of an exotic maiden from a far away land coming to see him stirred his Tookish side and Bilbo had to force the rush of eagerness back down, his lips forming a thin, white line as a result. He noted that she had cleaned the plate of pork and potatoes, and was now slurping away at the chicken broth. His tight mouth made a slit and he decided to speak.

"Excuse me, but, if you don't mind me asking, what is a young girl like you doing way out here in the Shire?"

"For starters-" she began, but a dribble of the broth down her chin and front interrupted her speech. "Blast it all!"

Bilbo jolted backwards, proceeding to reach inside his robe's pocket and withdrew a cream-colored handkerchief.

"Here."

Fandria, who'd been swiping the chicken juice off her chin with her dress' sleeve, looked up to see him offering the cleaning cloth. She accepted it with a barely audible "thanks".

"As I was saying," she said after patting herself dry, dropping the handkerchief in her lap. "I am far from being a "young girl", and I would like to keep my business private, thank you."

By the sound of it, she had no desire to continue this subject. Bilbo pursed his lips and set his fingers on top of the table delicately. He stayed silent for only a few minutes, then spoke again.

"If you are far from being a "young girl", how old are you really?" he couldn't help his infernal nosing Took side.

Her eyes locked onto his over the brim of her cup of tea that she was currently sipping from. She lowered the tea to the tray it had come on and a hollow laugh erupted from deep within her chest.

"An old maid is what I am, Bilbo."

Bilbo's round face screwed into a quizzical frown. An old maid? That was not a very clear answer. He wanted to know a bit more about his strange female guest, but the woman had polished off her dinner and was now beginning to yawn fiercely.

"I should like to talk more to you, Bilbo," she closed her mouth after finishing the yawn and blinked across the table at him. "I'm afraid, though, that will have to be on another day... Or night."

Bilbo understood what this meant and got up.

"I agree. You need rest if you are to keep your health intact for your journey. Come along! I'll show you to the guest bedroom."

He waited for her to stand as well from her seat, a more difficult task it seemed due to her height and weariness.

"If I didn't know any better, Mr. Baggins, I would say that you put a drabble of sleeping draught in my food." Fandria teased through a huge yawn.

The hobbit tittered half-heartedly, grasping her hand to lead her the rest of the way. Fandria noted his hand was small, smooth and warm, sort of like a child's. A crack of a smile made her lips quake, but she kept quiet. The woman found it oddly soothing to listen to Bilbo's eloquent babble. He was trying to make up for being so horrendously unrefined at the start, she knew, which was funny to her. All she asked for was a place to sleep that wasn't damp grass, and here he was stuffing her with pork and giving her a tour of his home, albeit a quick one. As far as she was concerned, he had done plenty enough.

"Here it is," his announcement shattered her musings. "Your room for the night. Forgive me if it's a tad dusty-I've been meaning to clean it for the past week, and-"

"Dust is not a problem for me, Bilbo. It will do just fine."

She was telling the full truth and reassured him of it with a wholesome smile. Bilbo just looked at her and nodded, clasping his hands before him, his nose wriggling. He was going to show her in, but Fandria swept past him before he could move an inch. She circled the bedroom, exploring its every corner, although she made sure to keep her hands to herself, for which Bilbo was thankful. He saw her wander over to the bed then and eye it yearningly. The hobbit took a few steps into the room, giving a soft cough. Fandria's dark eyes shot up.

"Would you, uh, like me to make it down for you?" he made what he supposed was a thoughtful offer, hooking his thumbs on his robe's tie.

The human let out a laugh, throwing back her head, a reaction that Bilbo had not anticipated. She shook her head, sitting on the edge farthest from him, grinning.

"I think I can manage."

Bilbo's brow flew up, then smashed back down, his mouth issued a sigh before forming a straight line.

"Yes, right, well," he paused, gathering his thoughts, then gave a final nod. "Good night, Miss Narand."

The hobbit turned to leave when Fandria's voice stopped him in mid-step.

"Good night, Bilbo, and I thank you again. It was too kind of you to do this for me."

Bilbo would have said something more, though he had no idea what, so he just repeated his last action; a nod and a 'Good night, Miss Narand'. With that he'd left her alone, shutting the door half-way behind him. Fandria laughed quietly to herself, shaking her head at the floor. What a humorous fellow that hobbit was. He meant well, he really did. He was nothing the way Gandalf had explained him to be, however. From what Fandria saw, the hobbit had grown and changed a lot. He was definitely not an "adventurous lad" anymore. It wasn't a big deal for for Fandria, though. As far as she knew she would not be seeing Mr. Baggins ever again. Once she'd fixed the bed for the night, the young woman laid down in it and snuggled underneath the covers. The hobbit's bed was probably one of the most comfortable beds she'd slept in. It was just her size and even felt like the mattress had taken her body's shape.

Needless to say, she was fast asleep in mere seconds with a full belly and a smile upon her lips.

* * *

Author's Note: Not much to say. I'm just hoping I kept Bilbo IC as much as possible. Reviews are always a pleasure!


	3. When Things Go Amiss

Disclaimer: I own no rights to 'The Hobbit' or anything related. Just my own characters and stuff that you do not recognize as being a part of the Tolkien world.

* * *

When Things Go Amiss

* * *

Fandria sat bolt upright in her bed with a hoarse cry. Her chest was heaving as she took in great breaths, gripping her head with her hands. She could feel sweat rolling down under her clothing, soaking through the coarse fabric. Never before had she been so frightened. She shook her head violently, still sandwiching it between her two hands, gritting her teeth.

"It was only a dream. Only a dream."

She continued with this mantra until the fear had diminished and her heart rate returned to normal. Letting her arms drop limply to her sides, Fandria closed her eyes and inhaled through her nose, forcing a calmness over herself. What had that been all about anyway? The last time she'd had a nightmare like that she had been just a small girl. And that had been a _long _time ago.

"Oi." she croaked, letting herself fall back onto her pillow, arms out and dangling off each side of the bed.

For a good long while she remained like this breathing quietly, allowing her bruised mind to relax for once. Her eyes blinked slowly until they came to close of their own accord. If she could have, she would have slept on and on. The bed was like a fluffy little cloud that she did not wish to be parted with. At the _tick, tick, tick! _of a bird's beak on the glass, she knew that she had got plenty of sleep, plus some. Her heavy lids pulled apart so that she was faced with the ceiling above and the long day ahead.

With much effort, Fandria dragged herself up and out of the hobbit bed. She stretched her arms and legs, yawned so that a shudder set an eruption of goosebumps atop her skin. Scratching her lower back, her brown eyes assessed the guest bedroom in the morning sunlight. It was a nice, clean place and she could not see the dust that Mr. Baggins had mentioned the evening before. Fandria swung her arms back and forth as she walked to the window. It was hard to make out through the number of ferns and flower bushes that grew up past it, but Fandria could tell there was a lot of green and she could only guess at how gorgeous it must look outside.

Her bare-toed footsteps made about as much noise as a mouse as she crept along the confusing maze of halls and rooms in Bag End. It would have been a perfect opportunity to have a thorough exploration, but Fandria didn't want to waste one more second than she had. Furthermore, it would be kind of the nerve of her to snoop about without Bilbo's permission. Speaking of which, where was the hobbit?

Fandria's ears perked at a peculiar new sound just then. She halted and peeked around the corner of yet another room, this one being larger than most. The sound grew in volume, then would decrease rapidly until it became silent, then it would repeat the cycle. Fandria tip-toed into the spacious room (that would have been even more so if not for all the clutter in it!), looking left to right for the source. Her wide eyes softened when she'd found it.

_'Well, that answers the question concerning my host_.' she thought with a smile.

In a fairly large, burgundy armchair there sat Bilbo Baggins, snoring up a storm. Fandria had to contain a giggle by covering her mouth with her hand, for the sight was quite comical. The hobbit looked as if he'd just randomly collapsed on the chair and passed out, his head lolling against his left shoulder, mouth agape, fancy robe half off, revealing a prim white night shirt underneath. The woman snuck closer, keeping her mouth covered. She watched him for a few moments, witnessing his toes wiggle or ear flinch from the dream he was having at present. The snoring seemed to be escalating and Fandria marvelled at how such a little thing like him could create a monstrous sound like that.

Reminding herself that she was ever losing time, Fandria reached out and gave the hobbit a light pat on his curly head.

"Goodbye, Bilbo." she whispered.

The hobbit made no response other than an incoherent mumble, his head rolling to the opposing shoulder. Fandria left him and thankfully did not have much of an issue finding her way to the entrance hall. Throwing on her cape, lacing up her boots and buckling her belt and sheathed sword in record time, the woman turned to the door she'd come through last. And like a phantom she was gone, not knowing that she'd be back before the day was done.

* * *

Not long after Fandria's departing, Bilbo Baggins' eyes fluttered open. For a moment he just sat there rearranging his thoughts, seperating the dreamworld from reality. He put up a hand to swipe away a trail of saliva inching downward from the corner of his mouth, growing more conscious of his surroundings. He was in the parlour and by the way the sun was pouring in, it must've been morning. His head twisted to the right, causing a loud crack in his neck. The hobbit hissed and rubbed the spot, his eyes squinting with discomfort. That's when he noticed the abnormal position he was in. When and how had he fallen asleep like this? The hobbit groaned as he stood from his favorite armchair by the fireplace, which only had a couple of glowing embers left now, and stretched. This action triggered more joints to creak and crack.

"Drat! I shall be popping for a week!" he cursed at himself, shaking his head.

He tied up his robe right, for it was all undone, and gave a big yawn. He looked back at his armchair, sniffling at the usual early-day allergies he had. Again, he couldn't understand why he'd awoken so haphazardly on the chair instead of curled up in his bed. He felt the strong tingling of a sneeze tightening his airway then and he took a breath-

"_ACHOOO!"_

To the hobbit's dismay, it had been a messy one. Grumbling, Bilbo automatically went to fetch his handkerchief from his robe's pocket.

It wasn't there.

He arched an eyebrow, peering down into the empty pocket.

"Huh, that's funny. I could have sworn-"

Suddenly, Bilbo became rigid as memories of the previous night came flashing back to him.

The strange visitor...

The human woman...

Confound it! What was her name?

"Fandria." he breathed, staring straight ahead at the far wall where a shelf of books stood.

The vision of the woman solidified in his mind's eye. Her curly, blond tresses, her freckled face, her glittering brown eyes. His heart hammered against his ribcage. The realization hit him square in the face: he'd let a woman stay the night. Oh, if anyone were to find out he would never hear the end of it! It would be the damned scandal of the century for sure! He'd let a _woman _stay the night. A _human _one to top it all! What on earth had he been thinking? Was he mad? No, no, it had been late and he'd been tired. He had not wanted to be bothered with the guilt should something have happened to the girl (which he surely would have, for that's just how Bilbo's kind heart worked.). Luckily it had been dark and hopefully her presence had gone unnoticed. Though, in a land so stagnant as the Shire, it was hard to _not_ notice something so out-of-place; even at night. Now it was the daytime and Bilbo did not have a clue of how he were going to be rid of her without some nosey Sackville-Baggins spying.

"Oh..." he moaned in distress, pressing the palm of his left hand to his forehead.

_What to do, what to do... _He let his hand slide down his face to fall at his side.

He figured she must have still been lying asleep in the guest bed and he knew that he would have to wake her, even though he would very much like to pretend she wasn't and go about preparing breakfast. He glanced at the clock on the mantle piece; it was half past nine.

"You'd better see her out, Bilbo. The longer you wait, the worse it will be." he said to himself.

When he had entered the bedroom a minute later, however, he was both surprised and relieved to discover that the woman had already left.

"And she made the bed too!" Bilbo exclaimed happily, pattering up to it.

He laid his hands upon the aged quilt that covered the bed (another prized possession of his late mother) and drew a breath, looking towards the porthole window where the sun's beams streamed in. A sniffle tugged at the hobbit's nose and he regretted ever giving that girl his dear little handkerchief. He doubted he would ever see it again. It was a queer itch he got at the back of his mind then, knowing that it would possibly go on to see places he would only ever read about in his books. He shook it away and removed his hands from the bed, brushing them off on each other.

"That's enough, Baggins. You're hungry. It's well past _first_ breakfast by now! I shall have to double the quantity." he added the last bit in a sneaky low voice, licking his lips.

The kitchen resonated with sizzles and pops as Bilbo flung his bacon over in the cast-iron pan. It had only been a few minutes and he had done and made a plate of eggs, sausage, two blackberry muffins, and some toast. His salivary glands were working overtime, and he had to keep swallowing as to hinder any drooling. Though he had all the wonderful smells around to occupy him, the hobbit could not save his mind from drifting off to think of the girl. He supposed she was past the Shire by now and probably on a most interesting mission-

"Quit. It." he barked at himself, flipping the bacon roughly.

One of the strips actually flew out of the pan and flopped to the floor.

"See now! Look what you've done, Bilbo!" he cried, withdrawing the pan from the fire. "Got your head up in the clouds and losing precious food because of it! You ridiculous fool!"

He went on scolding himself as he arranged the bacon on the plate alongside the eggs. After setting the pans and other such utensils he'd used for cooking in the wash basin, the hobbit scuttled off to the dining room to eat. It was a delicious breakfast he'd say, though he never thought it would be anything otherwise. Again, Bilbo loved to cook and his food was always superb because of this being so. Having finished with not a scrap left, the hobbit cleaned and put away his things, then, once he'd dressed properly and brushed his hair (both on his head and feet), went outside to relish the morning. Stepping out onto his doorstep, Bilbo shut his eyes, stuck his nose up in the air and inhaled.

"Marvelous!"

Plopping down on the stone bench that sat out in front of his hole, Bilbo brought out his faithful pipe and stuffed it with his favorite weed. Starting it up, he reclined, took a drag, closed his eyes and sighed in contentment. All previous thoughts concerning the woman of his troubled mind were blown away in that moment and the hobbit felt everything was right once more, as it should be.

Until he opened his eyes.

Stooping slightly on the gravel and dirt road, known as Bagshot Row, on the other side of his gate was a wizened old man. He was not a hobbit. No, not in the slightest. Human by what Bilbo could see. Clothed in grey robes and pointy hat, with a silvery beard that ended a bit past his belt, the man was definitely foreign to these parts. The worst part of the old man was how he looked at Bilbo. His eyes bore into into his with such an intensity, as if he were trying to find his soul. That was a disquieting thought. Bilbo pushed his nerves to the side, not wanting to appear scared of the questionable man hovering at his gate. He plastered on as friendly of a face as was possible, plucking his pipe from his mouth, he greeted the stranger.

"Good morning!"

The old man's bushy brow drew together, and he tilted his head, seeming confused by the hobbit's words.

"What do you mean?" said he. "Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not? Or, that you feel good on this particular morning, or that it is simply a morning to be good on?"

Bilbo blinked, the pipe in his hand slipping some from his fingers. It was surely not the response he had predicted.

"A-all of them at once..." he answered weakly.

The man was back to gazing oddly at him, leaning far over his walking stick. Bilbo didn't like it and he began to feel flustered. Before he could even open his mouth, the old man spoke again; this time a little less patronizing.

"I have come a long way to find a very special person. I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I have set up. And I am hoping that I have found the right hole with the right hobbit."

Bilbo's free hand flew to his heart, eyes popping out of their sockets. Was this man serious? He had to be joking. He must.

"Adventure? _Ad-adventure?!" _he fairly shrieked, bouncing up from the bench. "See here, Good Sir, I don't know what sort of trick you are playing, but, I can tell you now, that you will find no such person. 'Round here we are simple people with no need for adventures. You might try over The Hill or across The Water for that! Good morning!"

Sticking his pipe back in his mouth, the hobbit marched over to his mailbox and yanked the flap open jerkily, garnering an amused expression from the old man in grey.

"Hmm." he observed the hobbit sorting the mail.

Bilbo, to tell the truth, wasn't paying attention to the letters in his hands. All of it was bent on the man still planted by the gate, staring him down like vultures sometimes do when he hiked in the woods. He sucked and puffed on his pipe, muttering under his breath all the while, praying that the man would leave him be. He really did not want to have to come down to outright threats. That was never Bilbo's style. He'd much rather invite you for a smoke, but it seemed that this person was not in the mood. Not that Bilbo would consider it now. The hobbit's brown eyes darted from the mail he held to the old man, and he couldn't take it a moment longer.

"Excuse me, but, I don't think I know your name?"

"You _do _know my name, _Mr. Bilbo Baggins_, though you do not remember that I belong to it. I am Gandalf, and, eh, Gandalf means _me!"_

Bilbo's brow furrowed as he processed the name given, his pipe sending up a tower of smoke that was stolen away by the gentle breeze.

"Gandalf...? Gandalf? Gandalf! By God! Not the fellow who used to tell such wonderful tales at parties? Not the man that used to make such excellent fireworks? They went up like great lilies and snapdragons blooming in the dusk sky! Oh, they were so lovely," the hobbit sighed with a smile at the rush of nostalgia, then realized just what he was doing and gave a cough of purpose. "Sorry, had no idea you were still in business."

The remark made Gandalf's eyebrows go upward and a look of indignance cross his weathered features that Bilbo failed to notice. He set one hand on his hip, the long, bony fingers of his opposite hand tightening their hold on his wooden staff.

"I am pleased to find that you remember _something _about me, fireworks of all things. Hmm, yes, I think that a quality adventure is just what you need."

"What? No!" Bilbo dropped his mail and pipe. "No! Sorry! Absolutely not! Adventures are unwelcome here! Thank you! Good morning!"

The aged man lifted an arm, causing the loose sleeve to slide back to his elbow, and pointed a bent finger directly at the upset hobbit.

"It will be good for you!"

"Good for me? Good for me?!"

Bilbo shook his head, biting his lip. He was thoroughly annoyed and rapidly bordering on anger. How dare this man, Gandalf, come to _his _home and tell him that he is to go on some quest whether he liked it or not? How _dare _he! The hobbit stood, his toes curling, eyes narrowing to slits, until he gave a 'harumph!' and turned on his heel, stomping to the front door. He hadn't even bothered to retrieve his mail and pipe from the ground. He grabbed the golden knob that sat in the center of the round, green door, twisted it and pushed inwards, calling curtly back to Gandalf as he retreated into the safety of his hole.

"Good morning!"

The wizard did not wince as the door slammed shut. He only let his blue eyes linger on it, chuckling in a secret, mischievous way.

"I shall have the last '_good morning', _Bilbo Baggins. And you will thank me for it in the end."

* * *

"Curse my bloody map skills! Or lack thereof."

The evening was getting on by the looks of the sun dwindling towards the western edge of the sky, and Fandria hadn't gone much farther than the emerald land of the Shire-maybe just to the outer limits of it if she were fortunate. Fortune, though rarely, if ever, found the woman. And the faded, 80-year-old map in her hands wasn't lending any help. Of course, even if it had been printed yesterday, she wasn't so sure she'd be better off. Fandria was not a map-reader. Not like her father was. Or had been. Her brother had cheated her of that inheritance. Fandria's mind came to slow at the thought of her family. A pange pierced her heart. Her eyes, which had been practically burning a hole in the map splayed before her, were no longer clear and focused. A glaze had come over them as pictures of the past came back to haunt her.

"No. Nope. Not now." she told herself with firmness.

The wretched map lay mocking her on the ground. Fandria growled and picked it up, sorely tempted to tear it to shreds. No. That wouldn't do anymore good than what it was doing right now. Not content without serving it some form of punishment for being a dumb old map that she couldn't comprehend, the woman crumpled it up and chucked it. It landed with a faint rustle on the grass a foot away. Fandria glowered at it. She hated the memories it brought to her. The whole purpose of this trek was to get away from all of that rubbish. She rested her head back against the tree she was sitting next to and let out a shaky breath.

"Weak, weak, weak, _stupid _girl! That's what you are."

She could feel a wetness at the corners of her eyes and she dabbed them dry with the end of her dress's sleeves. She relaxed a moment, watching the branches of the tree high above her head sway in the wind. Her eyelids drooped and her ears became more intune with the sounds in the environment. It was just a small wood she was in, hardly big enough to actually be labeled a forest. It lie beside a field of beans or something of the sort. Fandria had never been taught much in the area of agriculture. The Shire appeared to revolve around it. She recounted then the short list of events of the day and had been shocked to find most hobbits were not like Mr. Baggins. Not that he'd been the most chipper of persons ever, but his less-than-stellar attitude toward her being was downright sweet compared to the scores of scowls she'd received from all the others that she'd happen to pass along her way.

"I might have been a three-headed dragon for the way they'd acted." she said to herself, smirking.

Not a one of them had gone out of his or her way to see if she was alright, which irked Fandria mightily. Hobbits were queer folk, no doubt. She shrugged off her emotions regarding the 'little people' and returned to enjoying the break she was on. Out of her pherephrial vision she spotted a rabbit emerge from its hole. It stopped and rose onto its hind legs, sniffing at the air, big ears turning this way and that. Fandria's lips morphed into a grace of a smile. She continued watching the animal as it busied itself with nibbling here and there on various bits of vegetation, unaware of her presence. Inch by inch it hopped on, finally to the point where it was beyond her sights. The young woman stretched out her legs in front of her, clunking her gigantic boots together for fun. The birds, who'd been singing nonstop all day, were beginning to simmer down now, she noted. Fandria gulped as the fear of the dark gripped her, for she knew night would be upon her soon and she had no hobbit hole to go to. Nervously she ran her hands back through her untidy mane. She tucked any loose strands behind her ears, and by chance she touched them. That's when she finally noticed.

"My earring!" she squeaked, pinching the naked lobe between her index finger and thumb.

She scrambled forward on all fours, searching among the grass for the misplaced piece of jewelry to no avail. It was nowhere to be seen. She swore hotly, standing from the ground. How long had it been missing? She was certain she'd had it on yesterday. At least she hoped she was certain. Her stomach churned in panic as she considered all of the possible places it could have been lost to. She looked back to the trail whence she'd come, her face slackening with weariness. She didn't want to back-track, but if she wanted to find her earring she really had little other choice in the matter. Though she'd not gone far it was still a good walk and she wasn't keen on meeting those rude hobbits again. They'd let her alone the first time, would they allow her a second appearance? She honestly didn't care. Her earring, one of the few artifacts left of her former life, was not where it should have been and she needed to get it back.

"So much for progress." she grumbled.

* * *

Author's Note: Alrighty, sorry I took so long to update, guys! I've been both busy and sick the past week. Well, I know this wasn't the most outstanding chapter, but I'm laying down the foundation for the whole story right here, and as a heads up, I plan on taking this slow and easying it along. Everytime I rush something I either A) Don't finish it, or B) F*** it up majorly. So please, be patient with me. Also, thanks to all of you who've been reviewing, faving or following thus far! It is appreciated! I would encourage you to continue doing so and those who have not yet done it, please do! It fuels my creative needs and lets me know you actually are enjoying this story! Love to y'all!


	4. Back at Bag End

Disclaimer: I don't own 'The Hobbit'. Period. I'm just a simple-minded fangirl quenching her thirst for Middle Earth.

* * *

Back at Bag End

* * *

By the time Fandria had retraced her steps back to Bag End, the sun had long since dipped under the horizon and the stars were blazing to life in the inky black night sky. She knew that it was unreasonable of her to go this length for a trinket and wasting valuable time that she did not have, but she also knew she'd regret it if she had done anything otherwise.

Trudging up the winding road of Bagshot Row that looped around Bag End, Fandria faltered in her gait when she saw someone up ahead coming from the opposite direction. It was a big bulk and moved with a fast, steady pace on the road. Fandria waited to see what it was, for it was far too big to be a hobbit-unless it was just abnormal. She waited, crouched near a grouping of lilac bushes in front of Bilbo's mansion of a hole. However, the person never passed her. Fandria stood up and peeked over the bushes at the front door to Bag End, wondering if the stranger had gone there.

It had! She heard knocking and a couple of seconds later bright, yellow-hued light broke the darkness of the outdoors and the minute figure of the hobbit stood as a shilouette in the middle of it. Words were exchanged, though Fandria didn't catch what they were and within the blink of an eye the mysterious stranger had disappeared inside with the halfling. Whatever had just occurred piqued the woman's interest and she heedlessly trotted the rest of the way along Bagshot Row, sneaking through the gate, up the path of stone steps overgrown with grass and right to the front door where the stranger had been moments ago. She strained to listen for voices, but could not hear anything. Shamelessly she pressed her right ear against the door, expecting something but got nothing. She frowned as she took her ear off and stared at the quaint round door. What was going on? Figuring it didn't matter either way, because it was surely none of her business, she reminded herself of why she was here and to stick to it. Unexcitedly she rapped her knuckle on the door, hoping that she would be able to find her earring and be on her merry way. The door swung open suddenly, making Fandria start, and there was Bilbo Baggins. He was dressed as he was the last evening and looked particularly troubled. He made an unpleasant face when he saw the woman at his doorstep, as if he were looking at a stray dog he'd recently shooed away and it was back to beg for more.

"Miss Narand! How nice to see you again." he greeted with fake sincerity.

Fandria half-smiled, giving a wave of her fingers at him.

"Hello, Bilbo. Don't worry, I'm not here to stay. You see, I've lost my earring-" she lowered herself a bit to show him the bare lobe. "And I've searched most of the Shire for it. I came to the conclusion that I must have left it here. Mind if I have a look around?"

"No need! You've guessed correctly. I put it up on the mantel piece earlier today. Just give me one second and I'll have it for you!"

He whirled about and scuttled off, leaving the door ajar. Fandria stepped in, a chill running through her as the warmth of the hole collided with her cold body. It was late winter and spring was on its way, but the weather still had some changing to do yet, including a good rise in temperature. She shut the door behind her, then without hesitation she took off her boots and went to find the hobbit. Okay, maybe not so much the hobbit, but more of the someone else... It was pretty quiet for there being another guest in the hole. Fandria wondered if the hobbit was trying to hide whoever was visiting from her, which only fueled her curiousity. Her ears caught his voice coming from a room on her left and she slowed. About to go see what the halfling was doing, he zipped out and crashed into her. Fandria stumbled backwards, her arms flailing to retain her balance. Bilbo, meanwhile, had fallen on his bottom. The young woman peered down at him, laughing.

"Where's the fire, Mr. Baggins?" she joked, bending to offer him a hand.

Bilbo, flushed and looking like the wind had been knocked out of him, paid her outstretched hand no mind and got to his feet shakily.

"Had no idea you were there." he muttered under his breath, readjusting his robe.

Fandria took back her hand and placed it on the hilt of her sword. She waited for the hobbit to finish collecting himself with an overly-sober expression. When he'd done so, Bilbo put out his right arm and opened his fist to her. In his palm there lay the slender silver hoop earring. Fandria plucked it from his pudgy hand, smiling a little.

"Thank you." she said, putting it back in her earlobe.

Bilbo nodded, sticking his hands in his robe's pockets.

"I suppose you'll be leaving now?" he inquired in an innocent fashion, though it sounded much more like a polite order.

The young woman's lips parted and her brow dropped to shade her darkened eyes.

"Yes, I've stalled far too long as it is." she answered coolly.

She spun around and strode with speed towards the entrance hall. Bilbo internally cursed himself, his face screwing up as an outward sign of this. He would rather have her be gone, but the better half of his mind swatted this selfish wish to oblivion and he hurried after the human woman.

"Wait! Wait, Miss Narand!"

Fandria, who was just getting her feet into her boots, stopped midway and looked up.

"Wait!" Bilbo halted a foot or so from her, heaving a breath. "Please, forgive me. That was rude, I know."

The woman snorted.

"I'll live."

Bilbo gaped at her, licked his lips and pressed on.

"No, I mean it. I really am sorry. You see, I've just had the most bizarre-"

"Look, Mr. Baggins, I know that you don't want me here and that's fine. Really. You've done plenty of good for me and I appreciate it very much." Fandria interrupted, motioning him to quit it. "But, I have got to go now. I-"

Her sentence was stunted at a tap on the door behind and she glanced around with a cocked eyebrow. She was about to answer it, but Bilbo beat her to it.

"Excuse me, please." he proceeded to the door, and the woman moved back, boots thumping on the tile.

When he'd opened the door, Fandria's eyes enlarged to the size of dinner saucers. Waiting on the porch was a dwarf. Yes, a dwarf. He was an old one, or so Fandria guessed by his snowy-white beard and lined face. He put on a cheerful smile upon seeing Bilbo, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"Balin," he introduced himself with a short bow. "At you service."

Fandria's eyes flitted to Bilbo, who was looking the same as when she'd come calling the previous night: stiff and plainly uncomfortable.

"Er, Bilbo Baggins at yours." he responded, sounding slightly lost.

The dwarf, Balin, bobbed his head merrily and crossed the threshold. The hobbit scurried away to where Fandria was and eyed the bearded creature warily, his hands clinging to his robe's tie for security.

"Very comely place you have here, Master Baggins," Balin commented as he inspected the stately hole, his eyes coming to land on the young woman next to the hobbit. "Hello, who is this? Certainly no dwarf."

Bilbo sputtered something unintelligible, while Fandria gave a deep laugh, shaking her head.

"Definitely not. I'm Fandria, and I-"

"Was just leaving!" Bilbo cut across, shooting the girl a pointed look, his nose upturned.

The blond woman's head snapped downward to the half-sized, hairy-footed man with an affronted expression. Bilbo's harshness melted a little and he bit his lip, his hands fidgeting with the robe tie he'd been holding so dear.

"Well, you _were..." _he trailed off feebly, his gaze shifting to the floor and his feet.

There was a clatter from another part of the hole just then, making all three look around. The old dwarf made his way to where the sound had come from and Bilbo quickly padded after him, muttering in agitation. Fandria snickered. All of this was so queer. What in Arda was a dwarf doing in the Shire and visiting Bilbo Baggins no less? He couldn't have possibly invited him, could he? And where was the man (or woman, though she doubted it) she'd spied ealier? If he was here, he had kept his presence unknown. Unless that had just been him who'd caused the clamor. For a moment she imagined Gandalf having a hand in this, especially since her encounter with him the last evening. What had he been up to? And she knew he was up to something, because that's just what the wizard did. Meddle and plot. It was his life.

Just thinking it had to do with Gandalf aroused the girl's terrible inquisitiveness. She really did want to see what was happening, but Fandria knew she should be getting on now. It was late and the road was long and, again, whatever may have been arising here was none of her concern. She had her own concerns to deal with. Taking one last sweeping glance of Bag End, Fandria sniffed, nodded to herself in conclusion, turned and headed for the door. The second her fingers graced the knob, however, there came knocking from the other side. Fandria stiffened, her fingers flinching away from the knob. She held her breath and sure enough more knocks ensued. Biting her lip, the young woman glanced over her shoulder hoping to see Bilbo puttering back, but the hobbit was still engaged with the old dwarf and the other man, or whoever it was, apparently. She returned her focus to the door as the knocks grew more frequent. Figuring she was on her way out and it was Bilbo's problem moreover, Fandria shrugged and gripped the doorknob. She pulled it open and found herself face to face with... _Dwarves? _Two dwarves to be exact. Both were very young, armed, and fairly handsome. Their faces masked in masculine determination diminished once their eyes fell on her. They were equally confused by what she could tell, the dark-haired one's mouth coming open somewhat. She stared back, not sure of what to say or do. Luckily, the blond one on the left saved her from the task.

"Excuse us, we obviously have the wrong hole."

"I told you we should have gone further." the dark-haired one grumbled, throwing his head back in exaggeration.

He was swiftly corrected with a punch to the side by the other dwarf. Fandria had to repress a giggle as the darker dwarf yelped and swore in pain, which only served to earn him another blow. The lighter one smiled sweetly at her then.

"Sorry to bother you, Miss."

He gave a incline of his head, as did the other, and both began to turn to leave.

"Half a moment, sirs!"

The dwarves halted and looked around at the same time.

"May I ask who's hole you be looking for?" she leaned on the door, her eyes bouncing back and forth between them.

The dwarves looked to each other before turning fully back around, about to answer, when a squeak from behind Fandria stumped them.

"What are you still _doing_ here?" it was Bilbo. "I thought-"

He spotted the newest arrivals past Fandria and he came to an abrupt stop, sucking in his lips.

"You must be Mr. Boggins!" the brunette dwarf exclaimed with great excitement, a huge grin spreading across his face. "See, I _told _you this was the right place, Fili!"

The blond dwarf, Fili, rolled his eyes, though he looked happy as well at the sight of Bilbo, who fit the description given to them perfectly.

"It's _Baggins," _the hobbit corrected smartly, not at all amused. "And I have enough _guests _as it is tonight! Sorry, but you'll have to come back on some other day!"

He ran forward and made to close the door on the two, Fandria gasping from the sideline.

"Has it been cancelled?!" the dark-haired one inquired worriedly, pushing the door inwards to see the hobbit.

"Has what-? Cancelled? What?!" Bilbo's whole face contorted into a mush of utter bewilderment. "Nothing's been _cancelled! _Let alone arranged! Now, please, leave me-"

His sentence was marred though as he was thrown back when the dwarves burst in, giddy smiles returning.

"That's a relief! I thought we'd been led on a trick!"

"As did I!"

Upon entering so unceremoniously, the two young dwarves came to Bilbo (who was on his backside once again that night) and bowed in unison.

"Fili and Kili, at your service!"

Fandria observed the dwarves circle the hobbit, shoving various weaponry into his little arms, making cheeky quips and smudging mud all over the place, including the hobbit's mother's ancient jewelry box. She had to say it was kind of pitiful to witness, as Bilbo had obviously not expected any of this to happen tonight. After Fili and Kili had been mercifully swept off by Balin and the stranger, who was also a dwarf, Fandria dared to approach the ruffled halfling.

"You look ready to cry." she remarked with empathy.

Bilbo looked at her, his chocolate eyes narrowing dangerously. He was going to retort, but, wouldn't you know it, there was a ring at the door. Fandria swore that the hobbit was close to exploding with frustration any minute now. Before she could say anything, he hurled the pile of swords and what not in his arms to the floor and stormed past her to the door, fists clenched at his sides.

"There is _nobody _home! Go away and bother somebody else, would you?!" he yelled with as much fury as a hobbit could muster. "I already have _four _dwarves and a human in my house, and that's plenty enough for me! If this is intended to be a joke of some kind, I can only say that it is in _extremely _poor taste!"

He then grabbed the knob and yanked the door open with more force than was needed. As soon as he'd done so, in tumbled a pile of-

"Dwarves." Fandria murmured, folding her arms and looking on in disbelief.

The squirming pile worked to pull itself apart, accompanied by many a curse and moan of pain. Fandria, who'd drawn nearer, caught sight of something hanging behind the dwarves outside, as did Bilbo. A second later, an old man with a long beard and pointed blue hat poked his head in. His eyes shone with delight when he seen the hobbit and human.

"Gandalf!" the two spoke his name together.

"Hello!" he said jovially, manoeuvring around the dwarves with care.

He hung his shady hat on the row of hooks by the door and leant his staff against the wall not far from it. The dwarves, who'd all gotten up, did their bows to Bilbo and trampled off down the hallway, were creating a tremendous hubbub from some other part of the hole. The hobbit zoomed right up to the wizard, hands on his hips and his large right foot thumping the floor in a show of irritation.

"Mmm, charming robe you've got there, Bilbo," Gandalf regarded thoughtfully, switching his gaze to the girl then. "Dear Fandria! How are you? I would have thought you'd be gone by now?"

Fandria chortled. "Yeah, so did I."

"Well, in any case, you are more than welcome to join our party." the wizard passed her, giving her a pat on the head.

"Party? What? Gandalf!" Bilbo followed the old man. "What is all _this?!"_

"What indeed." Fandria mumbled, turning to the door.

Gandalf, halfway down the hall, ceased his stride and looked over his shoulder, Bilbo's babble echoing in the background of his brain. He saw the girl still in the foyer, her back to him. His brow sunk and he let out a rumbling cough.

"Fandria? Are you coming?" he called in a sharp tone.

The blond whipped around, her spiraling locks flying

"No! I have to go, Gandalf! Goodbye!"

Gandalf gave no response after she'd said this. He only kept his scruntinizing blue orbs fixed on her, willing her to come and have a talk. Fandria shook her head at him and hurried to leave, but was once again hindered from doing so. Except it was _she_ who was the hindrance this time. Her hand was encircling the knob loosely, brow creased in the middle due to the internal conflict she was experiencing. Was there really any point in starting so late? Was there any harm in staying? She definitely wouldn't mind in finding the reason for the army of dwarves busting in on poor Bilbo and why Gandalf was here too. Her fingers brushed against the cold knob, debating. She chewed on her bottom lip, staring at her hand without really seeing it.

"Fandria?" a large hand cupped her bony shoulder.

The young woman sucked in a gasp, making it sound like she'd hissed, and whirled in a circle of alarm to face the owner of it.

"Gandalf! Don't do that!"

"Why do you linger, child? the wizard questioned.

Fandria stared up at him for a moment, speculating this herself.

"I don't know, Gandalf. I'm feeling rather confused to be honest," she sighed, then added. "And please don't call me _child. _I'm a woman who should have had three children by now."

"Ah, but in comparison to my superiorly advanced years you are merely a spring chicken! And those children will come in time, I promise you."

"It doesn't matter anymore. I'm leaving this place and never coming back." the woman spoke with finality and no one would tell her otherwise of this decision, or so she tried to make it that way.

Gandalf chuckled at her superfluous defiance, coming to her side and taking her arm to lead her away from the door.

"I think, then, it would be wise for you to rest and replenish for one more night," he said, flourishing his free hand. "Consider this your 'going away celebration'."

"My-? Gandalf, no, I have to-" Fandria stammered, trying to break from his grasp.

"Fandria, your escapade can hold off! I insist that you stay and have a drink at the least."

"But...?"

She looked up at the tall wizard, who looked down his nose at her, a smile glimmering in his eyes. Fandria exhaled, frustrated, throwing up her arms in defeat.

"You win! But I'm gone at first light in the morning and you can't stop me."

"Fair enough."

Relieving herself of her boots, cloak and belt and sword, Fandria trailed behind Gandalf through Bilbo's hole until they came upon the dwarves, who were bustling every which way, laughing, chatting, joking and just plain merry-making. Fandria felt her lips form a smile at the whimsical scene. In the midst of the whirlwind of braids and beards there was Bilbo practically running in circles trying to keep the rowdy dwarves from destroying his home. A futile attempt Fandria might add, seeing the chaos unfold before her eyes. They were racing back and forth between the food storage and dining room, carrying stacks of plates, bowls, cups and all variations of edible items, setting up the same long oak table she'd ate her supper at last night. It was completely different now. Fandria giggled as one distinctly chubby dwarf waddled by with his arms full of cheese blocks, the hobbit yapping at his heels. She backed up a step, accidentally knocking into someone behind her.

"Oops!" she turned around and found yet another dwarf. "I'm sorry!"

The dwarf-who had the most fascinating hat-gave her a warm smile.

"You're fine, Miss," said he, and as he walked past she heard him mumble. "Never knew there'd _be _a miss."

Fandria reverted her attention to Gandalf just in time to witness him whack his head into one of the many chandeliers hanging throughout the halls and rooms. Her mouth formed an "O" and her brown eyes widened and she had to keep from bursting out laughing.

"Infernal hobbit holes..." the wizard growled to himself, rubbing his forehead gingerly.

"Are you okay, Gandalf?" the young woman queried with a barely visible smirk.

"Yes, yes!" he waved her off grumpily, regaining his composure. "Ah, right, let me see... Fandria, there are supposed to be thirteen dwarves here. Would you mind helping me count heads?"

"Of course not!" she then began counting every odd dwarf that hurried past her, her index finger of her right hand pointed out at each. "One, two, three-No, wait, that's two! Now that's three, four-"

"-Balin, Bifur, Bofur-" Gandalf checked each of his fingers off at the names.

"-Nine, ten, eleven-" Fandria paused, scanning the herd of dwarves congregated in the dining room now. "Gandalf, I'm not getting thirteen here."

"Neither am I," he admitted, gazing down at her. "Well, he should be here soon."

Fandria nodded, her eyebrows drawing together.

"Gandalf, what is all of this-"

Her question was cut short when a dwarf she thought was named Ori approached the wizard at that moment.

"Here you are, Mr. Gandalf sir! Red wine, just as you asked for it!" he presented a tiny glass of the crimson liquid.

"Oh, thank you, Dori." Gandalf collected it with a nod and grateful smile.

"Dori! That's it!" Fandria hissed to herself, snapping her fingers. "Damn, I'll never remember all of them."

"Hmm," the wizard eyed the pathetic glass of alcohol with something akin to disappointment.

"Gandalf, why are all of these dwarves here? And you too, for that matter!" she was finally able to ask.

The wizard, after chugging the shot of wine, set the glass on a stool nearby and looked at Fandria.

"All will be explained in due time. Now, I think you may want to get yourself some food before there is none left to spare."

He left her and went to join the dwarves. Fandria sighed and shrugged, mimicking him. The dining room, far from the peaceful place of comfort that it had been the night before, was full of booming laughter and voices. The table was littered with possibly every scrap of food that they could have forged from the pantry, including three barrels of ale. Gandalf, she saw, had settled down among the rambunctious crowd and was presently puffing on his pipe, his eyes all a-twinkle like a grandfather enjoying the much missed company of his grandchildren. She, however, could not bring herself to slide between the hairy men and decided to keep her safe distance leaning against the wall beside the archway leading in and out of the room. Crossing her arms over her chest, Fandria grinned as all of the dwarves became silent when they took a moment to gulp down their ales. One by one they lowered their mugs a few moments later, swiped their mouths, and released a chorus of belches.

"Lovely." she muttered, appetite vanquished.

Once they'd finished their contest, they were either up out of their seats and searching for anything else left to eat or simply went on drinking more ale. Fandria, who was waiting for Gandalf to leave his chair, caught sight of Bilbo out of the corner of her eye just then. She twisted and peeped around the corner to see where he'd wooshed off to. He was pounding down the hallway, his fists still clenched at his sides, shoulders thrust upward. Fandria shook her head and glanced around when she felt a presence at her side.

"He does not seem to be in the best of moods tonight, does he?" Gandalf asked in puzzlement, his bushy white eyebrows lifting to his hairline.

Fandria guffawed, all of her teeth bared.

"I can't imagine why."

The old wizard sucked his pipe for a second as he stood there, then waltzed forward and down the way that Bilbo had flown. Fandria did not bother to follow and returned to watching the dwarves, as they were exquisite entertainers. Especially once they started cleaning up. The chore was accompanied by a catchy tune that involved the use of Bilbo's cutlery as makeshift instruments. Not to mention some decent foot stomping. Fandria clapped happily along to the beat, grinning from ear to ear. Dwarves, oh what splendid folk! In the blink of an eye, the dining room was back to its original state. It even seemed to sparkle, or perhaps Gandalf's smoke had got to her head. The hobbit, she saw, was back and gaping in shock at how they'd managed it all so fast. Fandria giggled quietly, her eyes drifting over to Gandalf, who was in his seat once more, puffing on his pipe. The evening was turning out to be a real treat and she was glad she stayed.

Her feelings were about to change, however, with three resounding knocks at the door that silenced the entire hole in a heartbeat.

Fandria straightened, looking over her shoulder and out into the hall.

"That must be number thirteen."

* * *

Author's Note: Well, that was a screwy chapter that took far longer to make than it should have. Sorry, guys! I've been hella busy lately. Not to mention, writer's block seems to be setting in and I'm trying my best to keep it at bay. Even if this chapter sucked major balls, it would be awesome if you all left some sort of review for me. I love hearing opinions and some constructive criticism never hurts too! Maybe sometimes... Ah, but I'll get over it! Anyway, I'm sick right now and feeling loopy, so if anything seems amiss or needs better explaining, just leave questions in a review or pm me. It doesn't matter. Okay, I'm tired and don't want to start rambling, so, yeah. Love you guys. Peace out.


	5. Dwarves, Dragons and Burglar-Hobbits

Disclaimer: I do NOT own The Hobbit or anything related.

*UPDATED* I added a bit more to the end of this chapter, because it felt rather incomplete.

* * *

Dwarves, Dragons and Burglar-Hobbits

* * *

At the sound of the firm knocking, every dwarf in the household fell quiet. No burps, no laughter, not even the clinking of a fork was heard from them. Gandalf took his pipe out from his mouth, his sunny attitude shifting to a more cloudy one.

"He is here." said he solemnly.

Fandria and Bilbo both looked at the wizard. The old man stood from his chair, made his way around the table and shuffled past the human and hobbit. The dwarves wordlessly did the same. Bilbo, making a weird noise through his nose, followed the party tiredly with Fandria close behind him. Gandalf and the dwarves were all surrounding the front door in the foyer. Fandria heard the wizard talking with someone in a low-toned voice, and she knew it must have been dwarf number twelve. She, being not much taller than most of the dwarves, could just see the top of the newest one's head from where she was. The way everyone was acting, he had to be important. She'd wait her turn to meet him, though. She was patient. Bilbo, however, was not. Or rather, he'd done lost all of his patience for the night. The young woman watched with amusement as the hobbit shoved his way through the wall of dwarves to get to Gandalf and whatever-his-name-was.

"Bilbo, this is Thorin Oakenshield. The leader of our company." she could hear the wizard inform the hobbit.

Fandria's whole body tensed. Did he just say...?

"Oh, and it turns out we have a surprise guest with us tonight, as well! Fandria, would you come over here, Dear?" came Gandalf's voice to bring her back to her senses.

The dwarves turned towards the woman. Fandria hesitated. She didn't appreciate having all of them gawking at her like she were some sort of fungi. Gulping down her bout of nerves, the blond did as she was told and came to meet the leader, ignoring their prodding eyes. Gandalf beamed down at her, bringing his hand to her upper back in a comforting manner.

"Fandria, I'd like to introduce you to our company's leader-Thorin Oakenshield," he then looked at the dwarf. "And this is Miss Fandria Narand. She's been on an excursion of her own in recent days."

Human and dwarf acknowledged each other for a few minutes. Thorin did not seem so pleased as Fandria was.

"A human," he spoke harshly, thick brows bowed low over his light green eyes. "Why is she here, Gandalf? This is a private gathering."

"Oh, she's no threat. As I said before, she's been travelling and only came here to rest for this night." the wizard explained lightheartedly, ruffling Fandria's curly mane.

Thorin snorted, crossing his arms. "I find it strange that a female human would be travelling_ anywhere." _

Fandria frowned at the dwarf, who was chortling along with the rest of his pack at the jab he'd made. Not wanting anything more to do with the rude dwarf, Fandria started to turn away, when Gandalf's hand flew up to her farther shoulder and held her in place. Sighing exasperatedly, she slouched on the spot.

"I am sure you are hungry after such a long journey here," the wizard addressed Thorin with an undertone of irritation. "Come, sit and eat, and we will discuss business."

The dwarf nodded in agreement and the other dwarves led him back to the dining room, all a chit-chat again. Fandria flung off Gandalf's arm the second they'd gone and gave him an angry look.

"_That's _Thorin Oakenshield? What a bloody-"

"Enough!" Gandalf barked at her, raising his right hand promptly.

The girl closed her mouth and folded her arms behind her. Gandalf studied her for a minute or two before he spoke again.

"Have you ate yet?"

Fandria tilted her head at him, then shook it.

"You ought to," he concluded, resting his chin on his chest as he looked down at her. "Come on."

The dining room was filled with dwarves once more, though the atmosphere had taken a drastic turn from giddy, light-heartedness to utter seriousness with the addition of Thorin Oakenshield, who currently was slurping up a bowl of soup at the head of the oak table. His companions were in their respective seats, leaning in towards the alpha dwarf with rapt attention as he spoke to them. Fandria waited at the archway as Gandalf left her and he too sat back down. She observed the party closely, in particular Thorin. So many tales and legends she recalled from the earliest days of her life that centered on his entire history. Of the might of the dwarven race, of the downfall of Thror, of the majesty of Erebor and all of its secrets. She could scarcely believe that he was here, the long lost dwarf prince. It made more sense now for the others to be here and Gandalf, but why would they decide on setting up a meeting in a hobbit's hole? Why not somewhere more regal or official? She saw then that they had brought out a map and had it sprawled out on the table. Gandalf, who'd gotten up, was hunched over it, relaying information to Thorin and the dwarves relating to it. Fandria rubbed her nose, catching sight of Bilbo lighting his fixtures to brighten the room on the wizard's orders. It was becoming too much for the woman's curiosity the way they were all oogling map and talking in low voices. Carefully she slunk up behind Gandalf and peeked around him at the popular attraction upon the table. It was old, perhaps older than the one she'd been carrying, and the language was foreign to her, but the pictures were perfectly clear. There was the Shire, The Misty Mountains, Mirkwood and-

"The Lonely Mountain."

Fandria whipped her head around at the voice of Bilbo, who was standing nearby with a candle in hand. He'd also taken an interest in the map it appeared. Fandria smiled a little at him, then reverted her attention. From what she gathered so far, these dwarves were devising a plan on reclaiming their home in Erebor from the evil dragon, Smaug, who'd taken up recedency there almost sixty years ago. A chill ran down Fandria's spine. She remembered stories of Smaug just as well as she did of the dwarves. Dragons were a diabolical race that self-indulged and cared for no one else. Fandria could only pray she never came across one. They are violent, cruel, destructive, and most of all incredibly strong and nearly impossible to kill. And these dwarves were ready and willing to go face to face with the most notorious one of this age? They had to be insane or just stupid. Fandria swept a glance over the crew, her face grim. Well, by the looks of them all, both were valid reasons. She tuned into the conversation then as Gandalf presented a large key to the lot. It was most intriguing.

"How did you come by that?" Thorin asked shrewdly, his eyes glued to the object in the wizard's fingers.

Gandalf gave the dwarf lord an annoyed look, lowering his hand with the key.

"It was intrusted to me by your father for safe-keeping! However, since I have no use for keeping it safe any longer and your need for it is dire, I give it now to you, Thorin Oakenshield."

The key was passed on to its rightful owner then, who stuffed it away in his layers of fur and armor. A sudden yawn erupted from Fandria and she felt her stomach rumble not a second later. As hunger seeped into her mind and took over, the young woman found herself losing interest in the topic of treasure and a dragon named Smaug. She patted her belly reassuringly. Hopefully this rendezvous would end soon and she could have Bilbo "rustle up some grub" before she conked out. She went back to lean on the wall, then slid down it slowly until her knees were level with her chest and she folded her arms over top of them.

"-will require a great deal of stealth and no small amount of courage." Gandalf was prattling on, rousing the dwarves with ease. "But, if we are truly careful, I believe it can be done."

"That's why we need a burglar!" one of younger dwarves piped.

Fandria chewed on her lip as a bout of laughter threatened to spill out of her mouth. She found it both cute and hilarious how the dwarf had said this. From not too far away Bilbo gave her a look, though she did not see it. He rolled his honey-brown eyes and returned his focus on the group, adding his own two cents.

"A good one too, I'd imagine."

There was a pause and all of the company poured their attention onto the hobbit.

"And _are_ you?" a old, red-haired dwarf inquired.

Fandria, nibbling on her bottom lip, turned her gaze on Bilbo as well, sensing something big was about to happen.

Bilbo, obviously not understanding the question, looked back at the dwarf with a brow that would soon be permanently screwed together.

"Sorry, am I what?"

"A good burglar!" the same dwarf repeated the hobbit's words, garnering a grace of head nods from the others, all eyes fixed on the littlest being in the hole at present.

"Me? A _burglar? _Oh, no! No, no, no, no!" the hobbit shook his head frantically, backing up from the crowded table. "I'm not a burglar! I've never stolen a thing in my whole life!"

There was soon a garble of both agreements to this statement and disagreements at the oak table, all of which Bilbo just stood back from and nodded with his arms folded over his chest. Fandria wasn't sure about the whole thing involving the halfling in some way, but a burglar? She would certainly have to side with Bilbo on this. He was about the farthest thing from a burglar one could get. Of course, Gandalf must have felt entirely different on the matter. And gathering from the growing darkness emanating from the wizard, Fandria knew he was about to make this clear with the arguing bunch of dwarves.

"Enough!" the grey wizard rose from his seat, slamming his hands on the table. "If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is!"

Everyone shut their mouths, round, wide eyes cast upon him. Fandria and Bilbo looked at him too. Once he'd brought back the focus of the company, Gandalf took a breath to calm himself to his usual sedate state of mind and settled back into his chair. Interlacing his long, bony fingers, the wizard began in his normal, enchanting tone of voice that all of them knew well.

"Hobbits, for those of you who do not know, are remarkably stealthy creatures with keen senses. They are light on their feet, and in fact, they can pass unseen by most, if they wish. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of a hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us the advantage we _need_. You asked me to find the fourteenth member of the company and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There's a lot more to him than his appearance may suggest, and he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know... Including himself."

All of the dwarves seemed more ready to believe now, except for Thorin, who was eyeing the wizard skeptically. Gandalf saw this, and leaned in towards him with a somber expression.

"You must trust me on this."

The dwarf lord's hard stare gradually slackened to a defeated grimace, and he breathed a sigh through his nose.

"Very well then," he looked away from Gandalf and twisted in his chair to face Balin. "Give him the contract."

"What? No! No, no, no, I can't-" Bilbo was saying from behind Thorin, but no one was listening and his little voice was ate up by the escalating chatter of the dwarves.

Fandria watched as Balin handed over the long contract to the hobbit, briefly summarizing its' details to him. Bilbo reluctantly took it with shaking hands and turned his back to the group to read over it on his own. While he waddled off mumbling the contents under his breath, Fandria got up from the floor and went to Gandalf.

"What's all this about?" she poked his shoulder, causing the old man to whirl about in his seat. "Why on earth would you ever think of putting him up to all this rubbish? He's a _hobbit, _Gandalf, not a Gondorian warrior!"

Thorin snorted at her defensively, his dark brow pointing downward in the middle.

"Rubbish?"

Fandria glanced at him carelessly, then back at Gandalf, who was lighting up his pipe for the umpteenth time that evening.

"Gandalf!" she shook his shoulder.

"Miss Narand, in your own words: My business is my own! Now, sit down and eat something before you wither away to bones and dust!"

Before Fandria could say any more, or before the dwarf lord could start an arguement with the woman who called his mission "rubbish", the sudden audible rise in Bilbo's voice made everyone look his way.

"-including, but not limited to lacerations, eviseration, or-" he stopped, his head jerking back as he stared in terror at the contract in his hands. "In-incineration?"

Fandria sighed to herself, knowing where this was leading to.

"Aye. He'll melt the flesh clean off your bones in the blink on an eye!" one dwarf, the one with the odd hat, spoke up in light, matter-of-fact way, as if he were talking about picking daisies in a field.

Bilbo made a whimpering noise at this, the contract falling from his hands to his furry feet.

"Melt my... Flesh... Oh, no... No, this will not do... Not at all..."

"You all right, laddie?" Balin asked kindly.

Bilbo didn't answer him, but continued mumbling softly to himself. He leaned forward and placed his hands on his knees and exhaled uneasily. All of the dwarves, Gandalf and Fandria watched and waited for what the hobbit would do next. The dwarf with the hat decided to make a few more comments concerning Smaug's worst traits, which were many, serving to be more than Bilbo's fragile mind could bear at one time. With a squeak of protest, the hobbit fell to the floor flat and lay motionless.

"He's fainted!" Fandria gasped in disbelief.

Gandalf sighed wearily, his blue eyes rolling back into his head as he put out his pipe.

"Oh, very helpful, Bofur!" he grumbled, standing from his seat.

Bofur simply raised his eyebrows at the wizard and shrugged his shoulders loosely, glancing from Balin to Thorin, who were both giving him angry looks.

"What did I say?"

Fandria, who'd gone to check on Bilbo, was kneeled by his side. She patted each of his plump cheeks gently, hoping he'd stir awake, but to no avail. She felt a presence behind her and looked around to see Gandalf hovering there, his hands on his hips.

"How is he?" he queried with an undertone of mirth.

The young woman peered upward at the towering wizard, frowning, though the matching glitter of hilarity in her dark eyes gave her true feelings away.

"Out cold."

"Hmm, I suppose we should find a more suitable place for him to lounge?"

"I agree."

It didn't take a lot of effort for Gandalf to pick up the hobbit and replace him on his favorite armchair in the parlour, where both he and the woman awaited in patience for Bilbo to come around again.

"So, what is this all about?" Fandria figured she'd try prying the wizard for information once more.

She was at present sitting on the floor near the fireplace, a lukewarm bowl of chicken soup in one hand and spoon in the other. Since Bilbo was incapacitated, she'd had to help herself to supper. It was delicious, though nothing compared to the feast he'd given her the night before. Gandalf was relaxing in the less-used armchair across from where Bilbo was, his pipe back in his mouth where it usually always was. He inhaled a moment, then blew out a row of smoke rings that whizzed off and flew right over the hobbit's head.

"Did you not listen to a word that Thorin said at the table?"

"I got the main idea, but where does _he _fit into all of this?" Fandria licked off her spoon and pointed it in Bilbo's direction.

"Why, he's our burglar."

"Honestly, Gandalf?" the young woman's brow lifted.

"Tell me, Dear Fandria, why does it bother you when you have no part in this adventure anyway?"

"I just think it's kind of rude to spring this on the poor thing! He's a hobbit! He's had no experience in any place beyond the Shire. He's plainly been sheltered his whole life."

"Still, what concern is it of yours? You have no emotional attachment to Mr. Baggins, for you only met him just yesterday. And who are you to say what a hobbit _can _and _cannot _do? From what I recall, halflings are not exactly your line of expertise."

The blond woman's mouth fell open to speak, but she found nothing intelligent or witty to throw back, because what the wizard said was true. She knew nothing of hobbits. Bilbo Baggins was none of her concern, yet she could not help but feel a tinge of pity for him. She knew he was a nice person who would wish the best for everyone, but he just wanted to be left alone, something that the female bohemian could relate to. Fandria cared much for those she loved, but she knew it was for the best that she'd disappear. Her uses were few anymore. Not that they had ever been many.

"Why should he be thrown into a mess he did not create? I don't think it's fair, Gandalf." she said quietly after her moment of mulling.

Gandalf leaned back in the chair, causing it to creak, and his eyes locked with hers.

"He needs this, I believe. And," he set down his pipe in his lap and let out a breath, tilting his head to the left. "I think that maybe you do also."

Now this made Fandria sit up straight, her brown eyes popping open.

"You think _I _need to go on some ridiculous journey with a flock of dwarves to fight a dragon for whatever foolish reason? Are you mad, Gandalf? What would possess you to consider such a thing?!"

"The fact that you have been aimlessly meandering along with no clear-cut destination besides that of your self-declared exile! And that, to me, is no more ridiculous than joining those dwarves."

"How would you know what I've been doing?" she asked sharply, pushing her empty bowl to the side.

"I wouldn't, but from my past knowledge of you and close observation in the past couple of days, I've come to the conclusion that you are running away from something, and I must ask what it may be and why you are doing so?"

"It's none of your concern." the girl growled under her breath as she made to stand, avoiding eye contact at all costs with the wizard.

"Fandria, you may keep to your own business, but as an old friend, I have to say that I am quite concerned for you right now," Gandalf's deep, knowing orbs stayed glued to her while she strode past. "Please, won't you tell me what is your trouble? I only wish to help you."

Fandria came to a halt and turned back to Gandalf. Her face was set like stone, though her eyes showed all of the emotions she so desperately wanted to hide.

"It's personal."

"Does it pertain to your father?"

The young woman's heart dropped to her knees and her mouth went dry. She blinked, the almost painful feeling of her tearducts wanting to relinquish themselves pounding at the front of her head. Gandalf seen her and knew his guess to be correct. A deep sorrow and guilt filled him then.

"Oh, child-"

"No!" she cried, swiping at her eyes, her lips quivering dangerously. "No, don't say anything. What is done is done. There can be nothing more said about it."

She couldn't bear to keep her self together any longer and so she went to leave, only to be plagued by the old wizard's last words.

"I do not know what your intentions are or where you plan to go, but just remember, dear Fandria, you are at no fault here. Your father's fate was simply that: his fate. You could not have helped it."

The woman faltered in her steps. She clenched her fists and bit her lip, then with a shuddering sigh continued from the parlour room, down the main hall to the foyer. She stormed out of Bag End, her cloddy boots slapping noisily against the stone steps leading from the round, front door. Thoughtlessly she plowed through the tiny gate at the end of the path and stomped along Bagshot Row for a good distance, cursing venom at herself. She needed to get rid of the needless grief weighing on her heart. If there was one thing Fandria hated most about herself, it was her lack of control over her emotions. Ever since she was a wee lass she could scarcely keep from crying for one day! And Gandalf had just the most wicked way of getting to her. Fandria swore he'd known everything and could read her mind. He had a gift for ripping out the deepest, most wildest part of your soul, and she despised it. Fandria was not a tough girl, though she tried her hardest to pretend. She was a soft one. Sometimes, like now, this fact made her really think about what she was doing this all for. Running away, that is. Well, originally it was for her own safety, but had she taken it too far? Perhaps her emotions were the true villain in all of this. So afraid to deal with and face them, she figured it would be better to forget them and start over somewhere else. Who was she kidding? Those feelings were and always would be locked inside her heart until the end of all time, and she could not run or hide from them. It was silly of her to have ever thought so.

Her father was dead. Her brother was gone and most likely also dead. All previous friends she had were lost too. She hated to and did not want to think about these things, but she was surely not about to let them make her go mad for another second longer. She had to get over it and accept the truth, though it hurt more than anything, she had to tell herself that she was alone and it was up to her to make the right choices now. Was it a right choice to run away? Would it have been a better choice to have stayed behind? Should she follow Gandalf's advice and join the dwarves in their quest? What did she have to lose?

"Nothing." she breathed, plopping down on the other side of Bag End in the grass.

She laid back, spreading out her arms to either side and inhaled the cool air. It was a crisp, clear night and every star in the sky shone with a brilliance beyond compare. There was hardly any wind and only a small number of crickets had taken it upon themselves to sing. All in all it was beautiful. Fandria sniffled, trails of tears leaking down her cheeks, her bottom lip twitching erratically. She recalled nights like this long ago. Peaceful evenings of light chit-chat and star-gazing after a good, hearty supper of lamb meat and mashed potatoes. He had a knack for preparing the most delectable meals and creating the most elaborate folktales. Fandria blinked as all of the warm memories washed over her, her vision blurring severely

"Father..." she choked out, finally succumbing to the void of sadness encased within her heart for so long.

* * *

Fandria awoke with a chill riding across her entire body length. She blinked and rubbed her eyes, rolling over onto her back from her uncomfortable fetal position. Stretching out her limbs she realized then that she was outside and daylight was approaching. She propped herself up on her arms behind her, yawning and blinking some more as she glanced about. The long silky grass was wet with dew under her fingers. She felt too her whole right side and bottom was dampened because of this. Annoyed, the girl stood up, her legs a bit unsteady beneath her. She cursed at herself while she brushed the stray blades of grass from her dress.

"Recovered your willful defiance yet again?"

Fandria turned to see the rather expected sight of Gandalf the Grey, his pointed hat upon his head and staff in hand.

"Willful defiance? Oh, come now, Gandalf-"

"Have you considered it?" he interrupted her oncoming rant.

Fandria closed her mouth and looked about ready to stomp off. She crossed her arms over her chest, eyeing something to the left of Gandalf on the ground.

"Considered what?"

"Going on the adventure."

Fandria's eyes widened just a hair. She took a step back from the wizard, nibbling her upper lip anxiously. She pivoted, putting her back towards him. Gandalf could see her shake her head and hear faint mumbling. His bushy brows laid low over his crystal blue eyes as he observed her, a pang striking his heart. He recalled her break-down from just last night, which had led her to the spot she'd awakened in not so long ago. Gandalf guessed she must have faced great evil for her to run away so far from her home. A loving home at that. Of course, he was certain that much of that was gone now. For a moment, the wizard thought perhaps it had been wrong to push Fandria like this. He did not know where she was heading, but it could not have been any worse than where Thorin and the dwarves were. Gandalf was well aware of how perilous and reckless the journey they were about to set out on was. It was likely some would not survive it. It was enough to be sending Bilbo along with them, but a young, defenseless human woman too? No. That was not right. She was never intended to be a part of this in the first place. It would be murder on Gandalf's hands if he let her go.

Sighing quietly, the grey wizard walked up to the woman, extending his free arm.

"I will."

Gandalf's arm stopped midway, a puzzled expression crossing his weathered features.

"You will what?"

"I will join the dwarves on their quest," Fandria spun around, her face hardened with decision. "Someone has to keep an eye on Bilbo. It's the least I could do for the poor fellow."

The old man gripped his staff with both hands and his jaw was on the verge of dropping.

"Fandria-"

"No," she cut across him. "You're right, Gandalf. I can't keep this running up forever. I must accept the truth and know that it was out of my hands. I have to move on. And, to be honest, I can think of no better way of spending my time at the moment."

She was dead-set by the looks of it, and Gandalf knew he'd been punished for all his past meddlings. Maybe it was meant to be. Though it was not ethical in any sense to allow her to do this, the wizard was not able to admit he felt completely terrible for his next words.

"Well then, I suppose we ought to find you a horse."

* * *

Author's Note: Hey there! Please don't kill me! I know it's been forever since the last chapter, and I must apologize. I sort of lost interest in this thing for a time due to writer's block. Sorry, sorry, sorry! Hopefully this chapter did pretty well. I was going to add more, but then it would have gone on too long, I'm afriad. Anywho, feedback is welcome with open arms! Even if you just want to tell me off for taking such a long time, lol. Love and peace.


	6. Fleet and the Handkerchief

Disclaimer: I don't own The Hobbit or anything related. That would be the sole property of J.R.R. Tolkien, thank you very much.

* * *

Fleet and the Handkerchief

* * *

The sun was fully risen in the cerulean sky and had stretched out its dazzling rays over the land far and wide, bringing all creatures from their slumber to enjoy the new day. Fandria was not among those so cheery to start it. She could not believe she'd agreed to join the expedition. Was she insane? Well, partly... Furthermore, she got herself involved and there was no way out at this point. Gandalf had announced the news of her inclusion about an hour before to the dwarves, who'd been none too enthusiastic. Least of all, Thorin, who did not fail to point out the obvious flaws of her species and gender. Fandria had a feeling this was going to be a regular issue with the dwarf lord on this trip. Gandalf had done some charming with him though and had eventually got him to accept her addition to the group, albeit grudgingly. Currently, the young woman was seated at the base of an old oak tree, her legs folded Indian style and back hunched as she chomped on a juicy red apple. Breakfast, complimentary of Gandalf. She and the dwarves were awaiting the wizard to return from some unknown errand he'd left to tend to about twenty minutes ago. They were all assembled in a clearing in the middle of some forest on the northern edge of the Shire. It was pretty here, infested with every sort of bird one could imagine, all of them tweeting and twittering in harmony. A loud crunch sounded as Fandria bit into the shiny red skin of the apple, juice dribbling down her chin. She chewed it up and licked her lips, swiping away the rest of the mess with her dress' sleeve. Fandria had never been an apple-person, but, by God, was this one delicious! Meanwhile, she half-listened in on the conversation of the nearest dwarves.

"I'm telling you, he won't come!"

"What makes you so sure?"

"The fact that he _said _so himself! He bloody fainted, remember?"

"He could have easily changed his mind last night when we were gone."

"Come off it, Kili!"

Fandria nibbled on the apple, her mind drifting through a stream of thought. She'd been a little disappointed after finding out Bilbo Baggins was not coming with them, the biggest reason for her deciding to join herself. She figured she could have kept the fellow company and helped him out if need be, because she doubted any of these thick-skinned dwarves would be willing to. They were alright, but it was plain to see that they were a tight-knit group who were not ready to welcome in the hobbit. She even less so. Not that she cared. She had Gandalf and that was more than enough.

"Fandria!"

The girl jumped, dropping her half-eaten apple. She looked up and saw Gandalf at the opposite end of the clearing. Her mouth fell open as her eyes caught sight of the two beautiful horses he held in each hand. Getting to her feet, Fandria jogged across the grass and stopped behind the dwarves who'd crowded in front of the wizard. He gestured her to come closer. Fandria nudged her way to the front of the party, grinning up at the horses, both of which were sticking out their necks and sniffing in her direction curiously.

"Fandria, I'd like you to meet Genna," he gave a tug on the reins of the chestnut, then did so as well for the midnight-black. "And Fleet."

"Hello." Fandria approached the animals slowly.

Genna gave a few quick sniffs around the young woman's shoulders and stepped back, then bowed her head and began snipping at the lush grass between her hooves. Fleet, however, stuck her nose right in Fandria's face and blew.

"Whoa!" the blond staggered back, saved from a fall by Balin.

"Careful!" he laughed.

Regaining her footing, Fandria thanked him and crossed her arms over her chest. She held Fleet's gaze steadily as Gandalf spoke.

"Quite the robust nature she has, unlike Genna here. You may choose either of them for the journey, though I would suggest that if you were unaccustomed to riding long distances, you take Miss Genna. Fleet would only serve as another challenge among many ahead."

Fandria swallowed nervously as the black mare's eyes stared her down, as if daring her. To be perfectly honest, the young woman had only rode once before and that had been on the back of her father's ancient work-donkey. In other words, she knew nothing of equines, much less an especially ardent one like Fleet. Again though, Fandria couldn't believe what she'd done when she said,

"The more challenges the better, in my opinion. I'm stealing Miss Fleet, if you don't mind."

"By all means." Gandalf handed her the reins of the ebony horse.

Fandria grasped the reins in both hands and pulled down on them so that she could pet Fleet's face. Fleet was not in the mood to comply, giving a shrill squeal and yanking her head upwards to the sky in show of it. Fandria yelped as she was lifted from the ground by Fleet's strength, but did not release the reins.

"Whoa, girl! Easy, F-Fleet!" she stuttered, unbalanced and shakened when her feet hit the ground once more.

"Are you all right?" came some dwarf's voice from behind her.

The girl nodded, licking her lips, eyes connected with the horse's.

"Y-yeah!" she turned sideways so that she could watch Fleet and walk at the same time. "Come on, girl."

With some protest at first, Fandria was eventually able to lead her steed back to the tree she'd been sitting by earlier and tie her to it. Fleet did not like this. She snorted and stomped and even tried rearing a couple of times, which frightened Fandria a lot.

"Think you'll be able to handle her?"

Fandria looked back over her shoulder at whoever had spoken. One of the younger dwarves with long, dark hair and a bow strapped to him was posed a few feet from her with his arms folded, looking a bit cocky. Fandria couldn't think of his name, but recognized him as one of the brothers she'd seen at Bilbo's door the night before.

"Yes, of course I will." she responded confidently.

"Sure? She seems like a real wild one to me," he continued on with a wry smile. "Not a lady's horse at all."

Fandria snorted. "Is that so? Well, what do you suggest I do since I'm obviously not capable?"

The dwarf's face slackened.

"I meant no offense. I was only looking out for your best interest, Miss Fandria. It did not look to me that you've had much practice with horses or ponies and I simply was checking that you were content."

"Well, I appreciate the concern, but I will tell you that I am _very _content. Thank you, Mister-uh?" she stopped short.

"Kili." he filled in for her, his smile returning.

"Kili, yes, thank you," she nodded, forcing a smile and clapping her hands together. "No need to worry here, I have everything under control."

His gaze lingered on her a second or so, mentally debating whether to listen to her or not, before shrugging and leaving her to go rejoin his brother and the others. Fandria watched him go, frowning. Who did he think he was? If she needed help, she would ask. _Men, they're all the same! _she thought bitterly. Her mind reverted to the little problem she had at present, knowing she'd have to figure out a way to get onto this lunatic horse's back. What was up with all of her odd decisions today anyway? Hovering a good ten feet from the infuriated animal, Fandria envisioned herself flying through the air and smacking into a tree after making an attempt to ride her. She shot a glance over to where Gandalf was speaking with Thorin. A sting of regret passed through her when she saw how docile Genna was being. She wondered if the wizard would be up for trading. Her attention was redirected back to Fleet when she suddenly let out a dramatic scream, bucking and rearing up onto the tree.

"Shh! Easy! Fleet, settle down!" she said with hardly a drop of authority, backing further away from the fitful horse in fear.

Surprisingly, Fleet stopped and looked around at Fandria, nostrils flaring open wide, ears facing forward rigid. It was unnerving how the horse eyed her so intensely and she made sure to stay at the safe distance she was at until she was sure that the animal had completely calmed. This went on for a good five or six minutes, Fleet's unwavering stare keeping to the human wherever she went. Fandria's lips formed into a half-smile as she gradually circled the horse, closing in with each lap. Fleet's assertive position melted and she seemed much more open and inquisitive towards the girl. Her nostrils grew and shrank as she sniffed at Fandria, ground-length tail swishing back and forth. Becoming a bit more comfortable, Fandria allowed herself to study the horse. Fleet was a truly stunning beast, with her shiny ebony coat and long, wavy mane and tail. In fact, she could have been from royal stock by the way she held her head so high and how her eyes glittered with such astute intelligence. Or so it appeared that way to Fandria, who knew little to nothing about horses.

"Yeah, that's a girl," she cooed, moving in to untie the reins from the tree trunk. "Not so bad now, are we? Huh?"

Fleet brushed her nose up to the back of the girl's neck and head sniffing and snorting like crazy. Fandria, the reins back in her hands, rotated on the spot and smiled up at Fleet. She was happy to see that the horse had taken to her after all.

"Good, Fleet," she began to nudge her to follow her across the camp. "Let's go-_whaa!"_

Fandria reeled backwards as her arm was yanked roughly behind, still holding to Fleet's reins, who'd decided to go in the opposite direction. Catching herself before she fell, the blond ran alongside the trotting horse to keep from being dragged until Fleet came to settle in a particularly rich patch of grass. Carelessly, she dove downward and started mowing it away with ease. Fandria, panting, shot the animal an incredulous look. So this is how it was going to be? She was doomed.

"Alright, pack your things and put out the fire! We're moving out!" Thorin suddenly ordered in that mighty, booming voice of his, mounting his own charcoal pony.

All of the dwarves immediately began scurrying around the clearing removing every single trace of their camp that was laid out there. It took them a matter of minutes to do this and soon they too had mounted their ponies and were forming a line behind Thorin and Gandalf. Anxiety rose in Fandria then, knowing she was lagging, for she still had not managed to get Fleet to listen, let alone get into her saddle.

"Okay, girl, it's time to go, so..." she dwindled off, giving a few tugs at the reins.

Fleet, however, was far too preoccupied with chewing the grass to pay any heed to Fandria. She snorted and moved further from her inexperienced rider the more this was done. Fandria watched the disobedient animal for a couple of seconds, irritation growing and patience fading fast. Then something clicked. Fed up with the horse's outrageous rebellious attitude, Fandria grit her teeth and gripped hard to the reins with both hands, pulling at them with all of her strength. Fleet's head swooped over as she gave a whinny of surprise at the girl, pieces of grass clinging to her muzzle.

"We're leaving and you are going to listen to me whether you like it or not!" Fandria barked.

She then spun around and proceeded to pull Fleet to where all of the dwarves were gathered, all the while the horse protested by shaking or swinging her head every which way, screaming at the top of her lungs like a child who did not wish to do what it was told. Fandria ignored her, though she still felt somewhat uncomfortable. She tried her hardest to stay in charge of the situation. Fleet would have to learn to mind her master's orders. The dwarves observed the young woman and horse make their painful way over with varying expressions. Many, like Fili and Kili, were plainly amused, but were able to keep their snickers at bay for the most part. Balin seemed concerned by way of the crease emerging between his eyebrows. Bofur was whispering something to his brother Bombur, who smiled and nodded vigorously at whatever was said. Thorin just looked highly annoyed.

"Fandria, would you like some assistance?" Gandalf queried from atop of Genna.

"No. Thank. You!" Fandria gasped as she fought with Fleet, who was sitting back on her hind legs, head raised to the heavens.

She neighed and reared, front legs flying dangerously. Fandria gave a cry, hurrying out of the way before Fleet could trample her.

"Stop it!" the human yelled in anger at the horse, her hands clenched into white-knuckled fists.

The company of dwarves, unsure of what to do, turned their heads to Gandalf. The grey wizard sighed and dismounted Genna. He walked over to the bristling Fandria.

"What, may I ask, appears to be wrong?"

Fandria whirled around to face him.

"Can you not see for yourself?"

Gandalf assessed the scene laid out before him with old, but clear eyes. There was Fandria, practically steaming off the top of her head, hands on her hips, glowering at Fleet, who was strolling lazily through the grass, nibbling here and there, completely happy where she was. Gandalf's lips quaked as he wanted to smile at the humor of it all.

"I see a lack of respect on both ends, that of which a horse-master must have in order for any allegiance to exist."

"Respect?" Fandria repeated snappishly. "I'll give _her _respect when she shows me some first!"

Gandalf shook his head and swiveled away from her to the mare, producing a high-pitched whistle. Fleet's head bobbed up instantly at the sound. She stared straight at the wizard, ears forward, tail flicking. Gandalf clicked his tongue, signaling her to come to him. For a moment she stood there, the wheels in her mysterious mind probably turning in thoughts that only horses could have, before eventually sticking one hoof forward. The other ones soon followed and in just a minute she was walking slowly towards the old wizard. Fandria gaped when Fleet went to Gandalf all on her own with no pushing or pulling of any sort involved. She even went as far as to bow her head to him, allowing him to pet her. The wizard grinned and whispered into her ears a language that Fandria did not understand. Jealous of his skills in taming a beast like Fleet so quickly, the young woman marched up and stuck her nose in.

"How did you do that?"

"I permitted her free will, to accept me or not," he looked to Fandria, wisdom like no other showing in his eyes. "It is a well-known fact that it is not the rider that chooses the horse, but rather the other way around."

Fandria bit her lip, her gaze averting to her feet as guilt filled her. She'd never heard of such a thing, so how was she to know? She'd never owned a horse in her life! Were they really so complicated as that? She felt Gandalf rest his hand on her right shoulder.

"It's quite alright, Fandria. I know you meant no harm," he reassured her as if he'd read her thoughts. "Now, come and get on. I shall hold her steady."

The girl's head flew up, a bright smile blossoming on her lips.

"Thank you, Gandalf!"

"You're welcome. Come along."

Fandria did not have to be told twice. Though she was scared, she trusted in Gandalf. As she passed to get to the saddle, she caught the horse's eye. They shared a few seconds of contact, when Fandria had to eventually break it. She approached the left side of Fleet and, with some difficulty, succeeded in pulling herself up into the saddle.

"There!" the wizard patted Fleet's neck, smiling up at Fandria. "How does that feel?"

The young woman swallowed thickly, her heart beating a pace faster.

"Different."

Not the answer he was expecting, but Gandalf left it at that. He gave a nod, passed the reins to her and made his way back to the waiting dwarves, who were murmuring restlessly to each other. The moment the wizard was on Genna again, the dwarves and their ponies began moving without hesistation. Fandria shook with nerves, not caring if the company was leaving her behind. Fleet was not a terribly tall horse, but this was more height than the girl could tolerate. What small amount of courage she had just moments ago was now gone. She felt insigficant on the back of this large and powerful animal, who, if she wished, could throw her at any time. However, Fleet was actually behaving astoundingly well. She seemed to be waiting for Fandria to make the first move, every few seconds swinging her neck around to check on her. Fandria, shaking like a leaf, lifted the reins and clicked her tongue just as Gandalf had done. She cringed, expecting Fleet to bolt. She didn't though. In fact, she smoothly started forward at a nice facile gait, head bobbing up and down. Fandria tried to relax, but it was just too hard with how distressed she was right now. Her body was tense, knuckles white as she strangled the reins with her hands. She was certain that if she let her guard down for even a fraction of a second she would fall off. It was then that Fleet began quickening her stride, seeing the group well ahead of them, but Fandria squealed and drew the reins back roughly. The horse neighed and tossed her head.

"E-easy, girl!" the blond squeaked.

Fleet took a few steps backwards, lowering her head to the ground and snorting. After a minute she came up again and, with a boisterous whinny, charged straight on through the trees. The young woman astride her screamed in terror, causing the dwarves and Gandalf to look behind. Up Fleet came pounding to them, her hooves flinging clumps of dirt and grass everywhere in her wake. She darted past the company with Fandria crying for help all the while and swiftly escaped from sight into the forest beyond. Thorin huffed, then threw Gandalf an irritable look. The wizard chuckled good-naturedly at him.

"Perky little thing, isn't she?"

On and on Fleet galloped, zig-zagging among the trees, which were thinning out the further they got. She was clearly having fun in doing so, unlike her rider. Fandria, tears streaming down her face, lied flat over the horse's neck and clung for dear life, sure that she was going to die at any moment. What had she done to deserve this? _Agreeing to come on this fool-hardy adventure, that's what! _

Fleet's marathon seemed to extend for ages until Fandria noted her gait slow considerably. She now was going along in a graceful canter, scarcely touching the ground. Though Fandria would prefer if she simply walked, this was most definitely an improvement compared to just seconds ago. The canter dissipated into a brisk trot soon afterwards, that of which mellowed out as well, becoming a relatively tame pace once more.

"Done acting like a maniac?" Fandria inquired dryly.

Fleet jounced about cheerily, snuffling as she went, reminding Fandria of one of her old hounds from a time ago. She laughed in spite of the anxiety she had, not having let go of the mare's neck yet. Closing her eyes, she hoped that Gandalf would hurry and catch up already. He'd probably give her Genna now that he'd seen just how pathetic she was at controlling Fleet. Oh well, she'd tried at least. Right?

At long last the vivacious equine came to a full stop. Fandria's eyes shot open and she jumped at the touch of something sliding acros her back just then. She pushed herself up from Fleet's neck and looked around, golden locks in her eyes. It turned out the culprit was nothing more than one of many tendrils of leaves hanging from a weeping willow near to them. The young woman's face softened, her lips curling upward in a fragile smile. Though most forests in the Shire were pretty, this spot that Fleet had taken her to was exquisite. The willow was not alone, accompanied by six others surrounding a tiny pond where two ducks floated peacefully amidst the lily pads. There was a lot of space between the trees and underbrush here, allowing larger portions of sunlight to filter through to the green floor below. Due to this, an abundance of various flora had sprouted up all over the place, covering most of the ground in a florid blanket. Flitting over the tops of the sea of flowers were hundreds of butterflies, who also differed in breed. Every so often a lone hummingbird would whizz by and visit a few lilies himself, his consistent drone adding to the grand orchestra of wildlife in the forest. It was sort of a miniature paradise, so to speak.

"Wow," Fandria breathed, twisting her neck to get a good look at the entire spectacle. "You have impeccable taste, Fleet, I must say."

Fleet blew a raspberry and shook her head, her long mane flying. Fandria laughed out loud, not as afraid as she'd been literally moments before. She sat up straighter in the saddle, though she still kept a death-grip on the reins. It wasn't _so _bad now that she had time to breathe. In fact, Fleet's brief run might have actually broken her in quite well. She hadn't died... yet. With a relieved exhale, Fandria flipped her hair from out of her face and spat a few of Fleet's from her mouth.

"Well, well, well, still in one piece!"

The blond looked back and saw Gandalf and the herd of dwarves marching into the little eden they'd found. She gently coaxed Fleet to turn around and the mare obeyed perfectly, giving Fandria a slight sense of real confidence. Perhaps Fleet had finally accepted her as worthy of her rider? She certainly hoped so, because she didn't think she'd live through another one of those reckless running sprees. Gandalf, grinning widely, halted in front of them, Genna straining her neck to meet Fleet's nose.

"How was it?" he asked, sounding a pinch excited, blue eyes round with curiosity.

Fandria sighed with a weary smile.

"Terrifying."

The wizard laughed deeply.

"You survived her test. Congratulations, Miss Narand." he said, continuing forward with Genna.

Thorin and the dwarves did not say anything, though a couple, like Fili and Kili, smirked at her as they passed. Fandria hadn't expected them to, though it still made her mad at how they refused to even see if she was all right. Is this how dwarf men treated their women? If so, she was thankful for never being born into such a chauvinistic race.

"Alright, Fleet, are we in this together?" she spoke to the horse after the party had carried on ahead again. "Or are you going to alienate me too?"

Fleet nickered in response, craning her neck around to give the girl a look that, if she could talk, would have been best translated to: "I'm with you, Sister!" Fandria beamed and carefully leaned forward to pat the back of her neck. With a quiet click of the human's tongue, Fleet began to stroll up the path that the company had recently made through the flowers, both girls sad to leave the beautiful patch of wood behind.

Though Fandria did not want to be near Thorin, he was not about to stop her from talking to Gandalf. With her longer legs, Fleet was able to get them past the dwarves and their ponies to the front of the team where the grey wizard and dwarf lord led.

"Hello!" she piped, riding up next to Gandalf.

"Well, hello, Fandria," he turned to his left as Fleet whinnied. "And Fleet."

"So, where are we heading first?" Fandria questioned pleasantly, the morning breeze whipping her hair about.

"As far as I know just straight travelling today until nightfall. We will not have any special destinations to get to for a few days at the least." answered Gandalf, swaying in time with Genna's body movement.

Fandria nodded, focusing on both Fleet and the road in front of them. She thought about how long she'd have to sit in the saddle and swore her bottom was already aching. So far Fleet was remaining placid, head extended forward in a relaxed position, ears rotating to pick up random sounds. Fandria prayed she'd stay that way for as long as this journey lasted. As they went, the trees became more and more dispersed. The grass was growing taller, thicker and greener. Flowers bloomed everywhere they looked, offering fresh nectar to the dozens of colonies of bees. Once in while Fandria would even spot a deer grazing in the distance between the sparse trees. The trees too, she noted, were much taller than before, their branches further up, leaving long, smooth trunks that were useless for climbing. Bright green moss hugged the majority of these trees, giving the spacious forest an overall emerald haze. A sadness came over the young woman then. Fandria knew that this lovely scenery would not last forever and that the path would in time take them to desolate and untamed lands, something she was not looking forward to at all. If she'd had her way, she'd live here for the rest of her days in content. But she would not have her way, due to poor decision-making on her part. She sort of wished she was Bilbo Baggins now, all cozy and comfortable back in his capacious hole. He'd been smart in declining the offer from Gandalf. Her future, well, all of theirs really, was more than less troubled. Her mouth became dry the more she thought about this, about her possible demise in latter days soon to come. It was a horrible subject to be thinking on and she tried to entertain her mind then with Fleet instead. She studied the mare's shaggy mane and came to realize she would have to fix that later. A bit of grooming would certainly not harm her. Perhaps even some braids would-

"Wait!" a sudden small voice intruded on her train of thought.

Fandria automatically pulled on Fleet's reins to stop her, receiving a tiny whinny from the horse at this.

"Wait!" repeated the same voice from directly behind her.

The girl looked over her shoulder and her eyes opened wider.

"Bilbo?"

Gandalf, Thorin and the rest of the dwarves all did as she had, bringing their steeds to a stop and looking back to see the hobbit racing after them, the contract from the last evening unfurled and flapping along the wind in his right hand.

"I signed it!" he said, well out of breath from his long sprint. "I signed my name."

He walked straight to Balin and handed over the contract, cheeks flushed and smiling. Fandria could scarcely believe it. He'd come! She wondered what in Arda had caused him to have such a drastic change of heart from just the night before. She saw Balin inspect the contract for a moment, then with a pleased expression on his aged face he rolled it back up and stuck it away in his layers of clothing.

"Welcome, Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield."

There was an energetic buzz of chatter among the dwarves then, Thorin's rumble easily heard over them all.

"Give him a pony."

The hobbit spun in the dwarf lord's direction, shaking his head.

"No! Please, that will not be necessary," he started, a anxious edge to his voice. "Thank you, but I'm sure that I can keep up on foot. I've done a lot of walking in recent days, you know? Even got so far as Frogmorton once-_argh!"_

Bilbo's jabber was cut short as two of the dwarves hoisted him by either of his arms onto the tiny pack-pony. Fandria had to repress a giggle, for the hobbit's expression was utterly hilarious. He held up the reins almost to his chin with only the tips of his fingers, gawking at them apprehensively, as if they were some sort of venomous serpents. When they headed off once more on the long road, Bilbo came close to flying out of the saddle when his pony flung her head back and neighed, earning a chuckle or two from the dwarves closest to him. Fandria made sure to keep her laughter a secret, her back to the halfling at the front of the parade. Gandalf had gone back to ride with Bilbo for a bit, leaving the young woman alone with Thorin. He made sure to keep a healthy distance between them, however.

"Apparently you are not the only one to lack such common skills as horseback riding." he commented without looking at her.

Fandria's brow furrowed into a dark glare at the back of his head. She wasn't about to start a conversation covering her plethora of inabilities with him. Guiding Fleet to the left, she circled and went back to where the wizard and hobbit were.

"Hi, Bilbo!" she greeted him with a radiant smile crossing her face.

The hobbit barely gave her a glance, nodding as a sign of acknowledgement.

"Hello, Fandria."

"So you decided to come anyway? I'm glad. I was afraid I was going to have to rely on the cooking of _this_ lot!"

Gandalf laughed heartily, while Bilbo simply nodded again, his lips a straight line of concentration. Fandria understood her nerves all too well. They rode on in congenial silence for a few moments when suddenly the hobbit let loose a powerful sneeze, spooking Fleet slightly. Both Fandria and Gandalf turned their heads to Bilbo.

"It's horse hair," he explained to them, sniffling. "Having a reaction. Reason I don't normally ride."

Fandria sent him a nod, returning to gazing forward. Not a moment later and the hobbit gasped, making her whip her head around.

"No, wait, wait, stop! Stop!" he cried out, raising his left hand. "We have to turn around."

The whole company came to a screeching halt and all of the dwarves peered behind with questioning expressions on their hairy faces.

"What on earth is the matter?" Gandalf asked impatiently.

"I forgot my handkerchief." Bilbo answered in a serious manner.

Everyone groaned, except for Bofur, who had a brilliant solution to the hobbit's crisis.

"Here! Catch!" he called to Bilbo, tossing back a piece of cloth.

The hobbit caught the dingy material (obviously ripped from the dwarf's attire) and stared at it disgustedly. Heeding Thorin's command, the company continued on as before, though not without some lasting grumbles concerning "halflings and their waste of precious time". Fandria glanced at Bilbo out of the corner of her eye and saw he was having trouble putting the make-shift handkerchief anywhere near his face. She bit her lip, thinking of how tough this adventure was going to be on the little guy. While pondering all of the woes in store for them in the days beyond, Fandria's eyes became large with a sudden dawning in her mind.

"Bilbo!"

The hobbit flinched, giving her an alarmed look.

"Yes?"

The girl rummaged inside the bodice of her dress for a moment, then withdrew a most delightful sight.

"My handkerchief!" Bilbo exclaimed.

"Yes, sorry about snagging it from you," Fandria handed the article over to him. "I was so caught up in my own world to notice I'd stuck it in my dress that night and forgot all about it. Until now, that is."

"Well, thank goodness you did!" he sniffed at Bofur's gift before flicking it over his shoulder. "I could not have placed that _thing _on my nose."

The hobbit smiled lovingly at his blessed handkerchief and gave it a kiss before covering his mouth and nose, blowing loudly into it. The young woman chuckled lightly.

"You're welcome."

And so began the unexpected journey of Bilbo and Fandria.

* * *

Author's Note: Finally finished! Oh. My. God. It is late and I am bushed, so I can't think of too much to say. How'd ya'll like Fleet? I'm a huge animal lover, horse's especially (Owned one myself for a time. Best friend ever!) and I always liked how Tolkien gave the horses in his stories some relevance and importance. I kind of was going by that and PJ's movies. Shadowfax, Brego, you know all the guys. I just thought it would be a nice addition to the tale. Again, hoped it did not suck too bad. Bilbo's part was short, I know, but I promise there will be a lot more of him in the next chapter, along with bonding time with the dwarves and Fandria as well. Thanks for reading and don't forget to review!


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